Search For A Star
by lurker2209
Summary: A new character uncoveres a mystery that may have deadly consequences for Sydney~Chapters 20 and 21 are up!!~Kristi and Co. make plans, and the biggest discovery yet!!
1. Prologue: Elimination

Title: Search For A Star 

Author: Lurker 

Timeline: Set at the end of TEWI but before Irina turns herself in. At this point it's going to go AU because I can't manage the Irina storyline along with my own

Rating: PG, I can't really see it going up to PG-13. It'd only be for the action, which I can't write anyways. 

Disclaimer: The characters you recognize belong to JJ and Co. The ones you don't are mine. 

Feedback: I adrore constructive criticism!!

A/N: I have this Fic all planned out, but right now, I'm really inspired to write the ending, so posting will probably come in sporadic spurts. 

  
  


**Prologue: Elimination**

  


"You realize whom you're accusing of being the mole?"

"Yes."

"Sd-6's best and brightest?"

"I'm sure."

"The pictures are pretty damning. It's quite obvious the switch was made."

"And the camera we have now doesn't work."

"Marshall assumed it was a decoy, a diversion to protect the original, but with this new evidence…"

"There's another indication as well."

"Yes…"

"I was monitoring the audio as well. They went radio silent, but I distinctly heard the call sign freelancer."

"For a backup team leader, you were very observant."

"To be honest I've had some suspicions for quite some time. Too many missions gone awry, devices that didn't work, or Intel that proved to be false."

"And you didn't come to me before this?"

"I had no proof, and I didn't see the point of making groundless accusations. So I kept my eyes and ears open and waited."

"You've done well. Security section will handle the rest of this."

"All…all right."

"I know you're young, and this may seem like a betrayal, but I assure you, you're doing the right thing. For the sake of your country. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Sloane."

* * *

"Get me Security section…Agent McCullough?...I take it you've seen the evidence?...I want it taken care of…A mission would be best; it'd smooth over the reaction here at headquarters…Make it look like an accident…I'll call an emergency meeting tomorrow; I don't want to waste time with this…I want that mole eliminated."

* * *

"Sloane here."

"It's been taken care of. There is no longer a mole within sd-6."

  


A/N: In case it's not obvious enough the last 2 segments were phone conversations, and the first one is one-sided


	2. Chapter 1: Omen

****

Search For A Star

Chapter 1: Omen

  


Sloane watched with interest as the plane approached the tarmac. On the video screen he could easily make out the markings on the small Learjet. Of course, the law firm it belonged to was really another front for sd-6, and a convenient way to cover up money laundering and hide the actions of various sd-6 fronts from the IRS. 

Sloane's thoughts returned to the plane as he watched the passengers disembark. Kristi and Brent emerged first, luggage in tow, and waited for Brandon to finish his post-flights. They were young, very young. Kristi and Brent were only 19, and Brandon, Kristi's brother, 18. But they were very talented, and he needed them now that he was a full partner for the Alliance. He needed his best here, centralized, so that sd-6 could be a force to be reckoned with inside the Alliance and out. With more like these three he would be able to take down Derevko, further securing his position within the Alliance. The future was bright for Arvin Sloane. 

He turned his thoughts to the monitor once again as the boyish pilot descended and grabbed his luggage. A small object flew from his hand to Kristi's. Sloane caught a glimpse of it before she put it in her backpack. A Rubik's cube. A simple puzzle of aligning colored tiles so that each of 6 faces was a single, different color. She could probably solve it in under a minute. It had been obvious from the beginning.

* * *

They weren't close friends, but somehow CIA agents, Arvin Sloane and Derrick Zahlan had ended up together at a local Taco Time for lunch His wife, Satterah, had a Realtor's meeting, so Derrick brought the kids. 4-year-old Kristi and 3-year Brandon had both begged for quarters to put in the candy machines. Derrick emptied his pockets with a smile and sent the kids off, keeping one eye on them, while the conversation carried on. 

One incident nearly interrupted their discussion. Brandon held a small plastic ball in his hands, the kind that s eparated in about five pieces and could be put together into a perfect sphere, although with some difficulty. Upset that it didn't taste good, Brandon let out a quiet cry and threw the ball to the ground, where the pieces separated. Derrick stood to handle the situation, when Kristi quietly pushed another quarter in to her brother's hands and bent to pick up the pieces. Derrick sat back down with a smile on his face.

"That'll hold her interest for a while; Kristi loves those types of things. Whenever I ask her what she wants to play, I end up working a puzzle."

"I wonder how long it will be before she gives up and asks you to put it together."

"A little while, she's got more patience than her brother, but she's still only 4."

The conversation returned to other things, as the Brandon and Kristi played quietly, content with candy and puzzle. I couldn't have been much more than 5 minutes later when Kristi's small hands pushed the ball into her father's hands.

"I did it Daddy. I made it round again!" And so she had. The small ball was again a perfect sphere, each of the small pieces put together in precisely the order that allowed the ball to be complete. Sloane and her father stared at her amazed. That a four-year-old would have the manual dexterity to put it together was amazing. Let alone that each of the oddly shaped pieces could be aligned with the others in a number of ways, and only a particular order and arrangement would lead to the desired shape. 

"Wow Kristi, you did it. You're a very smart girl!" Derrick managed to praise his waiting child and slip her another quarter. He turned to Sloane, who looked equally awed.

"I always knew she was bright, but I guess I underestimated her."

* * *

It had been such a small incident, but for some reason he'd remembered it. It had been an omen for things to come. And Derrick never knew how right he was. Kristi was one of the best, and many people had made the mistake of underestimating her, much to Sloane's advantage. 


	3. Chapter 2: Meet the Spy Kids

Chapter 2 

Search For A Star

Chapter 2: Meet the Spy Kids

  


"And you call yourself a spy," Kristi said after the elevator doors closed behind a young teenage girl and her parents.

"What?!" Brandon protested as the elevator continued on to their floor.

"Oh, like you could have been any more obvious in checking her out? And talk about robbing the cradle!"

"Robbing the cradle; come on! She was 15!"

"13. 14 at the most. Which is still 4 years younger than you."

"Well, she had a cute bellybutton ring."

"So this is what I get for dragging guys all over Iran for 3 weeks. They come to America and go ballistic over some girl's midriff!"

"I think that's a rather sexist remark." Brent interjected after watching most of the conversation with amusement. 

"Well, I'm the big sister, so I can make whatever kind of remarks I want."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is," Kristi said as the elevator doors opened to admit new passengers. Her smirk showed her pleasure at having the last word, this time, at least. 

* * *

The 2 bedroom suite was pleasant enough, but not fancy. The young agents quickly moved to unpack a few needed items, but decided not to unload everything just yet. 

"I hate living out of suitcases. I do enough of it already." Brent grumbled. 

"Me too," Kristi agreed, "Let's try to find an apartment as soon as possible. We don't need anything fancy. Two bedrooms; one for me and one for you guys. Some furniture, some dishes. We can frame a few pictures to put on the walls.

"Maybe buy a houseplant or two." Brent added. 

"Well, I'll let you play Spy-Boxcar children by yourselves. I intend to sleep for a whole week." 

"We have a meeting with Sloane tomorrow at 9." Brent reminded him. 

"Then wake me up at eight-forty, OK?"

Kristi cracked a grin, "I'll even try to be quiet for you."

"At this point, I doubt it would matter."

Kristi smiled as she watched her brother walk into the room and shut the door. People liked to say that Brandon had the easy job. Sit and watch while she and Brent completed the mission and then bring them back. But Kristi knew better. Her brother monitored every word of their conversation, and usually as many cameras as he could. He'd wait though every tense moment, instinctively knowing when they needed backup or where they'd show up if they missed an extraction. Kristi knew his watching her back had saved her missions many times, and her life on more than one occasion. And then on top of all his help during the mission, he'd fly them back home from wherever they were in the chaotic Middle East. Most weeks he put in more hours than the FAA would ever allow a pilot. 

And the funny thing was, he loved it. They all did. There was a thrill to it, an adventure that fulfilled her in a way nothing else could. Maybe it was the way they all worked so well together. The way she and Brandon could say so much in a look, a gesture, or if necessary, a single word. It was the communication that really held them together. They had known each other for so long, they simply all fit together. People called the relationship unhealthy; the bond and dependency between the three young people was questioned by those that thought it hindered their objectivity. Sloane had originally wanted to bring her to LA alone, but Kristi had put her foot down. Unorthodox or not, they worked. They got the job done, and they had managed to convince Sloane that the teamwork was the secret of the success. Whatever it was, it made them very good spies. 

Kristi had no idea when it all had started. Maybe it was the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys mysteries they all read as children. Or her father's strange obsession with James Bond movies. Or the thrill of discovering the cause for which both she and Brandon's father, and Brent's mother gave their lives. They'd really know idea at the time how dangerous their little investigation was. They'd just been a bunch of confused 12 and 13 year olds, wondering why their parents had died at the same time, and how working for a Bank could get someone killed. The idea that something dangerous was involved, something involving national security had never crossed her mind. One line from that movie the boys had dragged her to, Spy Kids, crossed her mind. "Our parents can't be spies; they're not cool enough!" But they were. And now the kids were following in their footsteps, serving their country. Even if it meant flying half-way across the world and living in a huge city all by themselves. Kristi yawned, realizing she hadn't gotten much sleep on the plane herself. "I think Brandon had a good idea there, about getting some sleep. Although I don't think I'll sleep until tomorrow afternoon."

"You want me to wake you up around seven and grab something to eat?"

"Sure. You're not planning on taking a nap yourself?"

"Oh, maybe I'll zone out in front of the TV for a while. See what American television has to offer."

"I really envy people who can get a good night's sleep on planes."

"I'm just special." He said, copying her earlier smirk. She was too tired to come up with something witty, so she simply threw a couch pillow at him and disappeared to get some rest. 


	4. Chapter 3: Girl Talk

Girl Talk 

Search For A Star

Chapter 3: Girl Talk

  


Getting Brandon up was actually easier than Kristi expected. When he spent 15 minutes in the bathroom arranging the gel in his thick, black hair, she knew her brother was back to his usual, cocky, chick-magnet self.Brent, on the other hand, was in and out of the bathroom in about 5 minutes, but spent the next 10 meticulously ironing his pants and shirt. _But I wouldn't trade either of them for anything, she thought. _

Sydney turned from writing a mission briefing for the Paris mission, her thoughts occupied on her mother and what move she would make next. She was startled by the entrance of three young people. She wondered what they were feeling, remembering the rush of patriotism the first time she entered the workroom. But these agents walked with a confidence she had lacked.The experience in their eyes spoke volumes about what they'd seen in their short careers.

They must be the agents Sloane said he was going to transfer, brought in to secure his place in the Alliance—and to find my Mother.She quickly turned her thoughts from that subject to studying the three agents that had walked past.They stood near her cubicle, waiting for Sloane to finish a meeting with her father.All three were tall, with dark hair and olive complexions. The girl and younger boy were obviously related, with their jet black hair, and sapphire eyes.The older boy's hair was a few shades lighter and his eyes were hazel. She knew from her father than none of the three was over twenty, but watching them stand with such confidence she had trouble believing it.

Jack opened the door but rather than leaving, he ushered the young agents in. Evidently he was to help Sloane brief them on their covers. Sydney returned to her report, trying to avoid the recurring thoughts of her mother.A little while later she left to use the restroom and came back to find a slight flurry of activity. The vacant desks behind hers were being occupied by the new agents. Two were directly behind her, and the third was across from them. The young girl was booting up her laptop and posed a question to her brother.

Brandon, do you have a laplink cable, I need to transfer some settings and a few files from my laptop."

"Yeah Kris, here you go."

"Thanks."

The short exchange provided Sydney with the names for 2/3 of this trio, and she was quickly introduced to the third as he decided to push back his chair and stand just as she passed by.

"Excuse me, I didn't notice you there, I'm Brent Ghaleb." 

"Sydney Bristow."

"And his is my partner Kristi, and her brother Brandon."

I understand you've just transferred here?"

"From Istanbul," Kristi replied, "We were trained there, and have been stationed there ever since.

"So you grew up in the Middle East?"

"Not really, we were all born there, but Brandon and I lived in DC for most of our childhood and for a few years here in LA."

"My mother and I moved here when I was 6." Brent interjected.

"And when we were recruited, we all moved back to Istanbul." Kristi finished.

"When were you recruited?" Sydney asked. She'd been wondering how these agents had managed to become so good at such a young age.

"Six years ago." The smile never left Kristi's face, but something about the way she said the words said it wasn't a subject she wanted to discuss.

"So what type of work have you done in Istanbul?"

"All sorts of things, but very little of it in Istanbul itself. Turkey's fairly calm, but it does share a border with Iran

"And that's where you operated?"

Kristi nodded. "We focused mostly on Hezbollah, counteracting their plans, working to stop the flow of funds, shutting down the Islamic training schools. It's a major center for terrorism, but every suicide bomber you stop makes the world a better place."

Sydney smiled and nodded at the younger girl, wondering what Kristi's reaction would be if she was told that every act of terrorism she stopped merely propagated another one somewhere else.The conversation moved on to lighter issues until they realized they both needed to get back to work, and decided to continue the conversation over lunch. 

* * *

"…and the funny part is she never realized that Kristina is derividation of the word "Christian." My mother was an incredibly devout Muslim, and she ends up naming her daughter after Christ, because she liked the sound of "Kristina!"

"That is funny!" Sydney replied, chuckling at the story.The two girls had started talking the minute they left the Credit Dauphine building and had yet to run out of things to say.Kristi realized how much she was missing in being able to have an unguarded girl talk. There were some things that Brandon and Brent just didn't understand.

"So where are you guys staying anyway?" Sydney asked.

"At the Marriott on Lancaster," Kristi answered, "but we want to try to find an apartment as soon as we can. I live out of suitcases enough already."

"Have you started looking?"

"I did some researching online back in Istanbul, to get an idea of what I'd pay, but nothing serious."

"We should go apartment hunting this afternoon." Sydney's eyes seemed to light up as she said this.

"He should, considering the hours we work. And there's not much for either of us to do until we get new intel in." Sydney made the call, and to Kristi's surprise, he agreed. She guessed it was because he wanted to get them settled in as quickly as possible and put them to work.

"So do you have any particular preferences?" Sydney asked as they got into the car.

"Not really, two bedrooms, not too small, fairly new appliances…O and the building can't have a flat roof."

"Because sooner or later, Brandon would attempt to land a helicopter on it."

* * *

To her surprise, Kristi liked the first apartment they visited. It seemed kind of strange to be so easily pleased, so they went to check out a few others, but ended up going with the first one.It was reasonably close to Credit Dauphine, was large enough for the three of them, and the price was decent, although all the American prices seemed incredible to Kristi.

With extra time on their hands, they headed for the furniture store.In the middle of looking at sofas Kristi's cell rang. The caller Id indicated that it was Brent.

"Hi."

"Hi, where are you?"

"Buying us a couch, wanna come help?" He decided to take them up on the offer, although Brandon opted to stay at the hotel, and sleep.They managed to furnish most of the apartment by seven, including the houseplants Brent insisted on. Sydney had to be somewhere at 7:30, although she didn't say where, so Brent and Kristi had her drop them off at a Chinese take-out place and grabbed a cab to take the food back to the hotel.

"This has been one long day." Kristi said as they boarded the elevator.

"Yeah, but we got a lot done."

"I know; we have an apartment and a couch, and that little potted palm tree you insisted on.I finally feel grown up."

"Didn't you say that after our first mission?"

"Ok, so the word 'grown-up', has never really applied to us. But I'm still excited.

"Me too."


	5. Chapter 4: The Road to Damascus

Search For A Star

Chapter 4: The Road to Damascus 

  


"Uh…Agent Zahlan, I-uh-have something…this is kinda unusual…not that I'm really concerned, but it's, it's weird…and well, maybe it's nothing to worry about…" Marshall trailed off. 

Kristi smiled at the welcome interruption to her mostly boring day. "Please, just call me Kristi. What's the problem?"

"Well, when you…ah…entered through the...um...scanner this morning, it, well, it picked up some unusual alpha emissions, ah…radiation."

"O, really? What's the spectronomy on that?" He handed her a sheet of paper. "O, they're trace amounts of sodium pentothal."

"You…you have…ah...truth serum in your…hair?"

"Well, you'd have to refine this to use it as truth serum." Kristi pointed to the glass rods she used to pull her hair into a bun, "I must not have washed these off thoroughly after we ran the last experiment."

"So…uh…who, err, what were you experimenting on?"

"We were studying the effectiveness of various radiation inhibitors. Take about 10cc's of this stuff 3-4 hours before exposure, and you can generally survive a normally lethal dose of radiation. Of course," she added with a grin, "you generally can't predict a radiation accident in advance, but there are some benefits."

"Wow, that's…uh…amazing…," Marshall seemed dumbstruck that someone else would even care about these things. "How'd you learn…ah…why did you study that?"

"It's my master's thesis. If the Istanbul University approves it, I'll soon be an MA."

"That's…um…cool!"

"It will be; now I'm trying to brainstorm some doctoral thesis ideas. Not that I'll have any time to work on it once Sloane puts me to work," she added with sigh. As if to prove her point, Sloane appeared at the door of his office, clutching a computer printout.

"Agents Zahlan and Agent Ghaleb, I need to see you in approximately 20 minutes. Marshall, I need to speak with you right away."

"Looks like something's come up," Brent commented to Kristi, as Marshall left.

"I wonder what…" Kristi mused before returning to her computer screen. 

* * *

"We have intel. On Sark," Sloane looked almost close to excited over this news. But Kristi was wondering why he wanted the three of them for the mission when Sydney and Dixon were so much more experienced with him and his methods. "We received a communiqué today from a member of Sark's organization who apparently wants to defect. 

"If we can place a mole, it may be the key to their demise." Jack added.

"The defector wants to meet with a senior member of sd-6 tomorrow evening. Jack will determine if he's bona fide, and set up the necessary SOP's."

"So where do we come in?" Brent asked.

"The meeting is in Sa'sa', Syria, in a relatively deserted area."

"On the road to Damascus," Kristi mused.

"So you are familiar with the area." This came from Jack.

"Of course," Kristi answered, "we've never actually run an op in Sa'sa' itself, but we're quite familiar with the general area."

"Good," Sloane nodded, "The three of you will run surveillance and serve as backup for the meeting. You'll fly out commercial tonight, to Greece, and take a charter plane from there direct to Sa'sa'. We can arrange for an sd-6 plane to be ready, but…" he looked at Brandon.

"I have a contact that can get us an unaffiliated plane," the young pilot assured him.

"That would be optimal."

* * *

"Eagle Eye, what's your ten-20?" Jack asked from a doorway in the deserted alley.

"Right above you, Sir." Brandon replied, "And I've got Hawk and Falcon on visual at 10 and 3 o'clock." He indicated Kristi's position in a building across the street, and Brent's perch on the arched wall that blocked off one end of the ally. 

"Visual on the subject. He's just entered the alleyway." Kristi reported.

"You have positive identification?" Jack queried.

"Affirmative. There's no mistaking that cane."

"I see him now, watch and wait for my instructions." Jack moved slowly out of the doorway and into the alley itself, still partially obscured by the remains of a street vendor's cart. 

"Affir—Bristow get out of there! This is a setup!" 

"Hold on Agent Zahlan. I see no signs of suspicious activity."

"I know a set up when I see one! This guy is no defector." Kristi insisted. 

"Hold your—" Jack's words were cut off by the sound of a gunshot, fired from Kristi's sniper rife. 

"Duck!!" Kristi screamed, in the half a second before the entire alley was rocked by an explosion. Shrapnel flew in all directions from the bomber's location, cutting Kristi's forehead, and slicing into Jack's right arm. Brandon and Brent's positions were more protected. Jack struggled to his feet, a little shell-shocked, but Kristi had disappeared from the window.

"Hawk, what's your condition?" Brent queried. There was no answer. "I repeat, Kristi, are you all right?" there was the slightest hint of panic in his voice. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," the reply came back. "I think that qualifies as suspicious activity."

* * *

"You defied my direct order." Jack took the empty seat beside Kristi. She had expected him to bring up the subject eventually on the flight back to Greece, but she underestimated how intimidating the stare he was giving her could be. 

"You didn't listen to me." _Way to have a powerful response, Agent Zahlan._

"It is my responsibility to make judgments in these situations." Jack glared at her.

"With all due respect, sir," Kristi replied, "Your judgment would have gotten us all killed. I know you've been an agent more years than I've been alive, but I know suicide bombers. And I know how to make tough calls."

"How many tough calls have you actually made, Agent Zahlan?" His skeptical tone infuriated her, but she forced herself to remain calm.

"More than I want to remember." When this didn't seem to satisfy him she continued. "I've faced 9-year-olds strapped to explosives, convinced that blowing themselves up to kill me would get them into heaven. There's no easy way out of that situation."

"And you believe that justifies insubordination?" The words were accompanied by another piercing look.

"When every foot increases the likelihood of the shrapnel being lethal, yes."

"Suicide bombers aren't Sark's method." _So now he's changing the subject? Did I win? Can you ever win with Jack Bristow?_

"You're right there, that man was Hezbollah." Kristi was certain of it. There was no simple identifying ID tag, but everything pointed to it—his clothes, beard, and even the type of explosive.

"What would a group of Iranian extremists have to do with Sark?" Jack asked.

"Sark has influence, on customs, businesses, minor officials in multiple governments, right?" At Jack's nod she continued. "Hezbollah needs those things, to get visas, move weapons, expand their influence. My guess is that it was a simple deal, Hezbollah takes you out in exchange for whatever help Sark can give them."

"Interesting theory. I'll report it to Sloane, _along with_ your insubordination," Jack looked stern once more, "but I'll also inform him that you were right about the set-up." 

Kristi smiled to herself as Jack returned to his own seat. Maybe she had a chance to gain his respect after all. 


	6. Chapter 5: Encounters

Search For A Star

Chapter 5: Encounters

  


Kristi pulled into the parking lot of a non-descript gym. Owned by an sd-6 front company, it was used by the Boys and Girls Club after school, and open to sd-6 agents before 2:30 and after 7pm. She fingered the small identification pass she'd been given. It looked like any other gym membership card, but with high-tech security devices to ensure only authorized agents gained admittance. 

She placed the card in the scanner at the door, and was waved on through by the smiling guard. Kristi had to fight the urge to slap him. There was something about his smile that was a little too friendly, the kind of thing she'd often seen on a mission, but offended her in real life. _Get a hold of yourself Zahlan. You're not wearing 5 yards of black material on top of all your clothes anymore. It could be just a normal, American smile._ At any rate, American culture would take a little getting used to. 

"You're agent Zahlan?" the man that interrupted her reverie looked to be in his early 40's, but still seemed very fit.

"Yes, I was told to come here for a fitness assessment."

"Right, I'm Agent Halliday; we just want to get an overall idea of where you're at physically. I think Bristow is planning on being here in a few minutes. I'll have the two of you train together."

"Sounds good." An hour and a half later, Kristi seriously regretted those words. She'd always known that physical ability wasn't her strongest suite, and she'd trained hard to make up for it. But there was no way she could keep up with Sydney Bristow. _She's amazing,_ Kristi thought as she missed yet another roundhouse kick in a practice fight, _and I never want to put myself through this again._ After a short break, she decided that would be a mistake. Training with Sydney would push her like nothing else, unless it killed her first. 

Sydney, on the other hand, was quite impressed with the younger agent. Sure, she was a little rough, but Kristi had lots of potential. She fought like she was playing chess. Sydney found it next to impossible to fake her out. If her body was as fast as her mind, she'd be incredible. But one thing impressed Sydney the most, and then started to bother her. The young agent barely seemed to break a sweat. Towards the end of the workout, Kristi started to look worn out, but still seemed quite cool, while Sydney felt like a sponge being wrung out. 

"One last thing, and then I'll let you both go," Halliday announced. "I want to test your reactions while handicapped." He held out two black blindfolds. Sydney took hers reluctantly. 

"This is the one thing I really hate, not being able to see."

"Good to know." Kristi replied with a grin. Sydney thought there was a strange gleam in her eye, but put it out of her mind as she tied on the blindfold.

"OK, the trainer instructed, "I want you to face each other and stretch out your arms so your fingertips just barely touch." They did so. "OK, now you know where the other person is…ready?...Go!"

Sydney moved immediately. There was no point in tying to size up a weakness when you couldn't see. She managed to connect her right leg to Kristi's left side, though Kristi moved quickly to deflect most of the blow. Kristi's kick to the back of her knees surprised her, but she managed to recover and launch another kick in Kristi's direction. Only Kristi somehow managed to anticipate this, and blocked it, using Syd's own momentum to knock her down. _Just ten seconds into the fight, and she's managed to knock me to the floor!__ Sydney thought, as she pulled the blindfold up. _

"How did you learn to do that?" Sydney asked, as Kristi reached down to give her a hand up.

"The Force?" Kristi just grinned.

"That's what it seemed like. Seriously, you were amazing."

"Very impressive, you've obviously done most of your training blindfolded?" the trainer added. 

"It was a Burka, but the principle's the same."

"A Burka?" Sydney questioned.

"You know, big black veil, with a little tiny mesh over the face. It's difficult to see out of anyways, and in a fight, you've got to rely on touch and sound."

"Did you have to wear that everywhere?" Sydney asked.

"Not everywhere, but parts of Pakistan, Afganistan, different variations in Saudi Arabia and Yemen… In Iran, I could get away with a long cloak, and a scarf, which was plenty hot by itself in 110o whether."

_That explains why she's not sweating_, Syd thought to herself. Aloud she said, "You gotta show me how you do that sometime."

"Alright, it's mostly practice, but there is a little bit of a method to it."

* * *

After a shower on her lunchbreak, Kristi was back a Credit Dauphine, typing up her mission report. It was pretty brief; despite all the excitement, not a lot had happened. She printed up a hard copy and knocked on the door to Sloane's office. Normally, she would have simply e-mailed it to him, but there was something she wanted to ask.

He beckoned her to come in. "Agent Zahlan. Please sit down."

"I have the mission report." She handed it to him, and he skimmed over it quickly.

"You rely a great deal on your instincts."

"In circumstances like this, they've rarely proved me wrong." She shrugged a little. "I'm not pretending I always have the answer, but there are a few areas where I have a lot of experience."

"Well, I expect to see nothing but good work from you in the future."

"Thank-you," She sat there silent for a few moments. _Am I dismissed? Should I ask him?_

"Was there something else?" he rested his hand on her shoulder, apparently genuinely concerned.

"Well, I've been thinking about my parents a lot more since we've come back to LA, especially my father."

"Being here brings back a lot of memories?"

She nodded, "It reminds me of why I joined the CIA. I just wanted to learn who my father really was. Being back here reminds me how little I know about him."

"Is there any way I can help?"

"Could I have my father's file? I know there are probably parts that are classified, but…"

"I'll prepare a copy for you to pick up tomorrow."

"I'd appreciate that." Kristi thanked him. _I'm finally going to learn something more about my father._


	7. Chapter 6: Discovering Derrick Zahlan

Search For A Star

Chapter 6: Discovering Derrick Zahlan

  


Sloane proved true to his word the next day. Before Kristi even had a chance to sit down, Jack Bristow handed her a thick manila file. Kristi opened at glanced at the front page to confirm its contents.

"Thank-you," she said, suddenly a little overcome by the fact that she was handling the evidence of her father's life. The life none of them ever knew about.

"Don't be surprised if you find a few gaps, and don't expect anything to fill them in," Jack warned. 

_I guess I have a reputation for being too curious for my own good_, Kristi thought, realizing how her investigations 6 six years ago must have created quite the stir. "I don't, sir. I assure you I realize that under normal circumstances I wouldn't even be privy to this information."

"I'll leave you to look through it; we have a briefing scheduled at 10." With that Jack turned to his office and Kristi set down with the file at her desk. 

For the next three hours she poured over the mission reports, performance reviews, physical assessments, and miscellaneous surveillance. The file began in late 1989, but the material there was slim. Mostly assessments and evaluations from her father's previous CIA work that had been transferred with him to sd-6. Apparently her father's transfer to the Black Ops division was a rather complicated process. His supervisor at the Langley division, Heninman, was working with Sloane to choose officers for the new black ops program, and recommended Derrick Zahlan. 

Kristi remembered the embarrassment of not being able to tell her second grade teacher where she was moving to. _I wonder how much my mother knew. Did my father tell her he wasn't really quitting the CIA to work in a bank? Did she suspect? _Kristi didn't really remember much about her mother. _I guess it was just easier to block it out; her death was so horrible._ Kristi shuddered at the image of her mother, lying on her bed, blood everywhere. _Not even being married to a CIA agent could protect her from the serial rapist and killer. If that man ever got out of jail…_ Kristi decided that locking people away probably was as much for their protection as their punishment.

She pushed the thoughts of her mother aside as she came to the mission reports of her father's first missions for sd-6. The missions from most of the first year seemed pretty routine. Sd-6 was just starting up, and most of her father's work involved establishing contacts, primarily in the Middle East. Most of the names were familiar and Kristy realized why people looked at her with such respect when she went under her true name. Zahlan was a name they knew and trusted. Kristi smiled as she realized she'd found the answer to a question that had always been lurking in the back of her mind. _My father would be proud of me, because I'm finishing the work he started. _

"Ready Kristi?" Brent's question interrupted her thoughts, and she glanced quickly to the clock on her computer, 9:56. She'd have to come back to the file later. 


	8. Chapter 7: Daguerreotype

****

Search For A Star

Chapter 7: Daguerreotype 

  


"Do we have news on Sark?" Sydney asked. Kristi knew she was thinking it had to be something important. Why else would Sloane have called in Sydney and Dixon, as well as the younger three agents? With Marshall and Jack also in attendance, the normally sterile briefing room looked a little crowded. 

"Unfortunately, no," Sloane answered Syd's question. "But what we do have may prove more valuable in the long run." At this everyone became increasingly alert. If this was more important than Sark, it had to be huge.

"This is Nicolai Camanithra, a Romanian photographer from the around the 1850's when photography was in its infancy. He's famous for his magnificent shots of the Carpathian mountains."

"How is he valuable to us?" Kristi was certainly interested in the little history lesson, particularly in the chemistry of developing early photographs, but she really wanted to get back to her father's file. 

"Well, our intel reports that Rambaldi encoded his master plan by carving patterns in the forests of the Carpathian Mountains. The modernization that took place under the Soviet Era completely wiped out those formations by widespread logging. But Camanithra's photographs should reveal the patterns. There will be trees in the places Rambaldi had carved out, but they will be obviously younger."

"So where are the pictures?" This one came from Dixon.

"In Switzerland. They're part of the eclectic collection belonging to Enrico Musconi. He's quite eccentric, has high security guarding objects with little obvious value. He sees no one, doesn't like to throw parties. He's quite the hermit."

"So how do we get in?" Brent queried.

"His wife," Jack answered the question, "runs a modeling agency out of a portion of their home. Kristi and Sydney, you'll go in as potential models, and obtain the photograph collection. Marshall?"

"OK, this Musconi guy is a real security freak, bits and pieces from all over the place, NASA, Soviet nuclear facilities, homemade time locks. It's…its crazy, no central oversight, nothing. See the door to the room, has one of those missile-silo key things. 7 feet apart, so one person can't open them." He stretched his arm apart at this point to demonstrate. "But see, he's eccentric, so he used the original keys, which we know how to fake; CIA…NASA…records …so here you go." He handed two sliver keys to Kristi and Sydney. 

"Then there's this old fashioned time clock that can only be opened at 3:47am. So you use this," he showed Kristi a slender gold watch and pressed a button, "to convince the cock that it's the right time and this" another button on the opposite side, "to descramble the combination."

"Then once you're inside the vault, the security cameras will pick you up, except that you," he looked at Brent, "will loop the tapes."

"This is where it gets fancy, high tech stuff, OK…infrared heat sensors. So you" he looked to Sydney take this," an old-fashioned looking pendent on a silver chain. Put it in a phone jack and Dixon can tap through his network and…"

"Zero Enthalpy," Kristi supplied.

"You'll find the camera and photographic plates in drawer 2209," Sloane resumed. "You fly out tomorrow morning. These are your aliases, and the mission details," he handed the five characteristic folders to the agents. "Any questions?"

"Just one," Sydney replied, "who else knows about this?"

"That I can't say. We deciphered this from some of our original Rambaldi documents. I can't guarantee that we're the only ones with access to them."

"In that case I have a suggestion to make," Brandon spoke out for the first time. "This map shows an abandoned helipad about 3 miles from the mansion. I recommend we make that the extraction point, just in case."

"Excellent precaution. Anything else? …then you're dismissed."

* * *

Back at her desk, Kristi was flipping through her alias info. 

"It looks like Indira Shastri is going to advance her career a little father," Kristi remarked to Brent. He laughed at the news, provoking Syd's question.

"Who's Indira Shastri?"

"An Indian music video extra and model."

"Don't forget the film." Brent grinned at her.

"I was trying to," Kristi glared at him. Then she noticed Sydney's confusion and explained. "Indira Shastri was an alias I used to infiltrate a small time Indian mob operation that was operating under the cover of a modeling and acting firm. For this op, it makes sense to simply revive her."

"I see. So you're a movie star?" Syd joked.

"Not even!" Kristi covered her eyes with her hand.

"O come on, I bet you were good."

"I was just fine, but the film had no plot whatsoever."

* * *

_If only the mission briefing was the only thing I had to worry about_, Kristi thought as she sat in her bed with her father's file. She'd worked on preparation and timing for the simple but numerous security systems they had to disable. Then dinner—which was much more difficult than it should have been, but half of the items in the fridge were unfamiliar, and most of her staples were unavailable—packing, and the advanced organic assignments for her post graduate correspondence course. 

But now Brandon and Brent were off experiencing the marvels of American video games—she made a mental note to stop them from staying up all night playing Counterstrike—and she could return to examining her father's file. 

She picked up back where she started, finding that after the first 9 months or so, more and more holes were found in the timeline. He must have moved from simply making contacts to actually dealing with sensitive information. There was really little unusual material as she moved though into the files dating from 1992. Until she came to June, and saw her mother's driver's license photo. SD-6 investigated her death themselves, just to be sure. _I guess it was as much for their benefit as my father's, but it's nice to know they cared._ She flipped through the autopsy photos hurriedly. There were some things that even agent training hadn't taught her to face. She moved through the DNA evidence more slowly. It was a clear positive match to a serial rapist/killer sitting on death row. A neighbor's vague description of a suspicious-looking man placed him near the scene. It would never be enough to get a conviction, but since he was already on death row, there wasn't much point anyway. _For 1992, they're DNA recovery techniques yielded amazing results. They were lucky to get such a good sample._ Kristi took a deep breath and moved on. Thinking about her mother's death was getting easier, but it still hurt.

Moving on through the entries past June, Kristi began to see a difference. Four months were blank, with a single page in Sloane's handwriting as explanation. 

_The loss of his wife has caused Derrick Zahlan to seriously reconsider his career. After an extended leave of absence, Bristow persuaded him this was not an option. Zahlan returns to work tomorrow. _

_So that's how it happened_, Kristi realized. For two months following the endless investigation her workaholic father had taken them on a tour of the world. They'd been to Europe, the Middle East, and even an African Safari. Her father had been somber and quiet for most of the trip, while she and Brandon, with their childish short memories managed to forget their grief in the midst of so many new experiences. But Kristi did remember one moment when he'd seemed to open up a little.

* * *

"Daddy, why are we going here," Kristi asked, her 9-year-old eyes trying to take in the entire setting of the little cottage bed and breakfast in the French Alps.

"Mommy and daddy came here on our honeymoon," he explained. "She always wanted you to see these mountains."

* * *

_He turned away then,_ Kristi now realized, _because he didn't want me to see him cry. It must have been his way to remember her, to say goodbye._ Tears filled Kristi's eyes as the reality of how much her family had lost hit home. Kristi was sobbing now, lost in her grief.

Brent must have heard her; he appeared at the door, sat down on the edge of her bed, and placed a reassuring arm on her shoulder. 

"Your father's file?" She'd told him at dinner that she planned to look through it. Kristi nodded and swallowed and took a shuddering breath, trying to speak.

"How could one family experience so much pain? Why my family? Why yours? What kind of world is this when so many bad things happen to good people?"

"I don't know Kris. I really don't know." He pulled her closer to lean on his shoulder. "I guess that no matter how much bad there is in the world, you just have to know there's good, too. All one person can do is to fight for the good. It won't bring our parents back. Sometimes it doesn't even seem like we accomplish anything, but what else can you do?"

* * *


	9. Chapter 8: The Guardian Angel Strikes Ag...

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Search For A Star

Chapter 8: the Guardian Angel Strikes Again

  


"So what's my countermission?" Sydney asked the minute she stepped in the door of the warehouse.

"The CIA wants you to switch the camera and the plates for duplicates," Vaughn told her.

"That's impossible, do you people have any idea how huge that camera is. How am I going to hide the duplicate?" Vaughn realizes she was definitely in a upset over something. Normally, she'd simply assume they'd think of these things and hear him out. 

"We'll make the switch at the airport, but in order to duplicate it closely, we want you to photograph it." He handed her a cameo inset. "Place this on the front of Marshall's necklace and when you squeeze the sides, it'll beam a photo straight to our satellite."

"And the switch?" Yeah, Vaughn confirmed to himself, something's definitely bothering her.

"You brought your case?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, put the real camera in here," Vaughn handed her a different case, "and we'll swap you for the real case with the duplicate camera at your exit gate."

"I got it."

Maybe it was a mistake, but Vaughn decided that he had to bring up the subject. Something was definitely bothering her, and he was probably the only person she could talk to about it.

"What's wrong Syd?"

"Huh?"

"Something's bothering you. Do you wanna talk about it?" She sighed, and he knew she was going to tell him something important.

"There's these new agents at sd-6." She started.

"Kristi, Brent, and Brandon, right?"

"Yeah, and Kristi's so sweet. I helped her go apartment shopping and we just talked about everything and nothing. She said she'd never had a friend she could just go shopping with and not feel like she was hiding something. And I just felt like such a fake. I've known her less than a week, and I already am fighting the urge to tell her the truth."

"You know that would never work," Vaughn knew his words were inadequate, but he just didn't know what to say.

"I just see myself in her so often." Sydney continued. "She loves her job, there's the passion in her for doing the right thing, saving the world. She told me this afternoon that she was so proud to be following in her father's footsteps…" she trailed off, looking to Vaughn to say something comforting, reassuring. He honestly didn't know where the words came from, but they came.

"What you're doing Syd, taking down sd-6, is as much for Kristi as it is for anyone else. When sd-6 is gone she'll be free too, to be able to go on a do something else with her life."

"Knowing Kristi, she'll probably discover the cure for AIDS." Sydney smiled finally. And Vaughn did too, knowing that once again, he'd managed to help her though.


	10. Chapter 9: En Route

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Search For A Star

Chapter 9: En Route

  


"Look what I found," They'd finally achieved their cruising altitude, and Brandon had just put the Lear on autopilot when Brent opened up his backpack and tossed Kristi something that appeared to Sydney to be a Rubik's cube. 

"You found four-by-four's?" Kristi looked over the cube, which had 16 squares to each face, rather than the traditional nine. 

"Five's too," he held out an additional cube, this one with 25 squares to a face. "Want one?"

"Nah, I want more of a challenge," she had already started working on it.

"Wouldn't the five-by-five cube be more difficult?" Sydney raised the question, wondering why adding additional rows would decrease the complexity. 

"Nope, think about it. Any odd-numbered Rubik's cube has fixed center posts. Those 6 squares never move, so you just try to align all the rest of the colors with the center. In a four-by-four cube, there's no fixed center, and the four middle squares will rotate around, so it's harder to line them all up."

"Fascinating," Dixon replied as Sydney nodded in understanding.

"Of course once you do…," Kristi continued, "the rest of it is easy." With that Kristi tossed the cube back to Brent and glanced at her watch. "Hmm…2 minutes, 47 seconds. That's, what, double the world record, but not bad for my first time. 

"I could beat it," Brent challenged.

"What? Me or the world record?"

"Both!" Brent answered with a smirk.

"Is that a challenge?" Kristi was smirking now as well.

"Why not?"

Dixon offered to time the two, and in just a minute they were seated side by side each with a four-by-four on the tray in front. Best of one turned into best of three, and then best of five. Neither of the pair wanted to concede defeat, but after the 8th round, Dixon refused to time a ninth and declared a tie. 

"You guys realize you're the two biggest geeks ever." Brandon announced from the front of the plane. Sydney was inclined to agree with him. She'd been fairly adept with a Rubik's cube as a child, but had never thought to make a competition out of it.

"Of course we do. Why else would we create our own chemistry-spy society?" Kristi retorted. 

"You have a chemistry-spy society?" Sydney was trying very hard not to laugh.

"It's just a sort of standing joke between us." Kristi answered. "Cause we're probably the only two sd-6 field operatives with Master's degrees in organic chemistry. Although, I did think of a good spy-chem logo the other day."

"What was it?" Brent asked.

"I'll show you," Kristi grabbed a piece of paper and sketched a complex molecule on it.

"Epinephrine. Good one." Brent chuckled.

"Remind me again what epinephrine is?" Brandon asked. Sydney had been wondering the same thing.

"Adrenaline." Brent answered. 

"That is appropriate," Sydney said as she thought of her recent experiences with the drug. 

Kristi's look turned serious, and she turned to Brent. "Maybe we should do something on Adrenaline response for the Doctoral project. We really need to get our thesis proposal started soon."

"How about exploring the relationship between exercise-induced endorphins and adrenaline in flight/fight situations."

"That might work, but what kinds of tests would we want to include?" Kristi posed as she and Brent settled in for a lengthy discussion. Sydney watched them with some interest, not always understanding their conversation, but fascinated by the interaction between the two. There was very little explanation or clarification needed. Brent would propose an idea and Kristi would immediately understand his intention. They moved from idea to idea rapidly, dissecting a concept in a matter of minutes and seeming to settle it without any obvious signal that they were ready to move on. It was fascinating to watch, and made Sydney wonder when she'd last seen interaction like that. They'd almost make a person believe in telepathy.

* * *

Kristi smiled as moved towards the bathroom at the back of the plane. She and Brent had managed to hammer out a rough draft of the thesis proposal, and were ready to revise it for approval. As she walked back from the restroom, Kristi weighed her options for spending the remaining flight time. She could get some sleep or read through more of her father's file. Her curiosity won out as she pulled the file from her bookbag. The documents that followed her father's return were markedly different. The primary difference was that he was assigned to Mariyah Galeb as a permanent partner. But there were more subtle differences as well. The missions were the same, but her infallible father was making mistakes. There weren't very many, and most of them didn't even seem to be his fault, but Zahlan's impeachable track record was started to gain a few blemishes. 

It seemed to be a time of turmoil and suspicion at sd-6. Sloane suspected that several of his charter agents were working against him. Everyone was under suspicion, and her father's mistakes made him a target, if not the most suspicious one. His partner Mariyah seemed suspicious at times, and there were records of her concern about his performance and even some questions of loyalty. End the end, however, it was all cleared. The records returned to a more normal pattern, although the errors remained constant. In late 1993, there was additional suspicion, this time focused on both partners. A few suspicious signals picked up by the sd-6 monitoring raised some issues about the mission, but Marshall eventually determined the disturbances to be due to static. 

Surprisingly, as she neared October of 1994, the documents seemed to be sparser. It was not the classified mission briefings that were missing. Instead, the agent reports, recommendations, and performance evaluations were missing. Kristi wondered why these would be classified. Generally they held little information about valuable intel or operations. _I wonder what possible explanation there can be here. _

Kristi had wondered after she received the file, if it would contain the records from her father's last mission. More than anything, she wanted to know how he died. All she knew was that the mission had gone wrong. _Well, it's here, although the mission before it is completely gone. There's no mention of it anywhere in the file, save for the reference in the briefing of the last mission._ Apparently a retrieval had failed, although the reference blamed faulty intel, not her father. 

As she began to read the documents describing her father's last mission, things began to strike her as odd. As complicated as her life always seemed to be, Kristi was shocked at the simplicity of her father's death. He was to meet his informant and obtain some information on the plans of the Iranian government. But the informant was killed by Hezbollah, and a suicide bomber took his place, killing both operatives before they could even realize what happened. It didn't make any sense to Kristi. _Dad had been working in the CIA for 20 years. He knew the middle East, inside and out. He'd worked with this contact for nearly 4 years. How could Derrick Zahlan have failed to notice the switch? Maybe it was just a lapse in judgment, one that cost him everything, _ Kristi grasped for a reasonable explanation, _but Mariyah was there too, how could they both have missed the signs. It just doesn't make sense._ With a shock, Kristi realized they were landing. _Mind on the mission, Zahlan, worry about your father later._

* * *


	11. Chapter 10: Shopping Spree

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Search For A Star

Chapter 10: Shopping Spree

  


They touched down in Paris just a little after 11am Paris time the next day, after a very-long 10-hour flight. Brandon had the plane refueled, and took off again with Brent and Dixon. They'd land at an sd-6 airfield in another 40 minutes and Kristi fully expected the boys to drag Dixon into a snowball fight. She and Sydney caught a taxi to De Gaulle Airport where they had a short layover. They'd fly commercial to Zurich where Mrs. Musconii would have them picked up and driven to a hotel near the Musconii estate on the beautiful lake Zurichsee. They'd freshen up at the hotel and meet with Mrs. Musconii at 6pm. 

She checked her voicemail out of habit, and found to her surprise that she had a message. _Who could that be from?_, she thought as she pushed the button to play the message. An elegant, refined, and somewhat annoying voice came through.

"Hello Darlings, I have the most wonderful news! Some of my best Clients are arriving tomorrow in the late morning, so if the two of you are as exquisite as your photographs, then you'll have your first jobs through Musconii Modeling, within just hours of being hired. So be the darlings you are, and come dressed to impress!"

"It's only a few hours; it's only a few hours." Kristi repeated, speaking to herself.

Sydney laughed, "She seems to be quite the character doesn't she?"

"Yeah, well at least there's one bright spot in this." Kristi grinned.

"What?" Sydney asked.

"We have to 'dress to impress' right?"

"Yeah…," suddenly Syd caught on, "We need to go shopping!"

"In Paris! I'll go reschedule our tickets; you call Sloane and explain."

"You're making me ask the boss for money?"

"You're the senior agent here; besides, I'll call 'Mrs. Dahling' and tell her to pick us up a few hours later."

"I won't fight you for that job; meet back here in 15, OK?"

"OK."

* * *

Sydney didn't know when she'd had as much fun. She and Kristi had managed to visit what seemed like every store in Paris, in just a few hours. They'd tried on countless dresses, before finding this tucked away boutique looking over the Seine River. It was run by this little old woman and her niece, who were incredible sweet. They also had incredible taste in clothes, finding the perfect dresses for both of them. 

"I wonder how difficult it's going to be to convince Sloane to let me keep that dress," Kristi said as they found their seats. 

"You are obsessed with that dress," Sydney laughed for the millionth time that day. _Being around Kristi always makes me laugh._

"Love at first sight." Kristi agreed. "I'm just glad that Madame De Lour's sign for lightning-fast alterations wasn't false advertising."

"She was amazing wasn't she?"

* * *

"So how's this?" Kristi said as she strutted across the hotel room, practicing her 'model walk.'

"Good, definitely."

"It better be; it took me three hours to get it right for my modeling teacher."

"You had a modeling teacher?" Syd asked.

"Yep, two weeks worth of lessons where they reteach you everything: how to walk, how to stand, even how to smile. It was actually quite fascinating."

"I'll bet; so you really want to do my hair?"

"I have the most wonderful idea." Kristi had already put her own hair half up in this mass of tiny braids that flowed into each other and were clasped with a black barrette, leaving the back flowing down around her shoulders. It looked exquisite, so Sydney decided to trust her own hair to Kristi's judgment. The end result was spectacular. Kristi piled most of the hair on top of her head with just a few tendrils hanging down. Kristi curled these and finished off the entire 'do' with a liberal amount of extra-hold hairspray. 

Sydney returned the favor by doing Kristi's make-up, and finally the two changed into their gowns. Kristi's had tiny spaghetti straps, holding up a midnight blue sequined bodice that was attached to a black skirt. The blue pulled out her sapphire eyes, while the black contrasted with her olive skin.

"You look like a princess." Sydney told her.

"Actually I am," Kristi responded, "my middle name is Emira, which in Arabic means princess. But thank-you, and you look spectacular yourself."

And Sydney did. Her deep red dress had an off-the-shoulder bodice, and the skirt was cut straighter than Kristi's, emphasizing her height. Sydney fastened the necklace around her neck, with the attachment she'd been given by Vaughn. It also had a comm in it, so they could communicate if anything went wrong. _I wonder what he'd say if he saw me now._ Sydney pushed the thought aside quickly. _Our relationship is strictly professional._

"Smile." Kristi interrupted her thoughts with the flash of a camera. 

"You brought a camera?"

"I bought a disposable at the airport. We need pictures of how spectacular we look. And practice for those magazines we're supposed to be in." The two ended up using up the entire camera, before they got down to business and went over the mission details one last time. 

"I think we're ready." Kristi said.

"We'd better be, because Mrs. Musconii's driver is going to be here any minute."


	12. Chapter 11: Expect the Unexpected

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Search For A Star

Chapter 11: Expect the Unexpected

  


"Brent," Kristi said as she twisted an earring, activating her sd-6 comm, "do you read me?"

"Loud and clear. Be careful in there. I wouldn't want to have to come rescue you."

"By the time you found me, I'd escape and be halfway to the extraction point"

"Yeah, right."

"We're here." Kristi ended the banter by announcing the limo's arrival at the Musconii estate. 

"Copy that. I'm on the premises. Going radio silent until I'm in."

"We'll wait for your signal." Kristi turned to Sydney.

"Ready?" the older Agent asked.

"Yeah."

* * *

"So Indira, dahling, let's begin with your portfolio." Mrs. Musconii said. After 10 minutes of society small talk, Kristi was grateful they were finally moving on to business. _Brent had better get those cameras out of business soon, or I'm going to strangle this woman._

"Of course, she replied and opened the case to reveal a stack of glossy photographs and clips from Indian fashion magazines. Most of it was real, from her previous work as a model. Mrs. Musconii began studying each picture with a critical eye. 

"Ooo lalaaa," She was staring at a picture of Kristi in a tradition Sari, and elaborate jeweled headdress. Kristi glanced at Sydney and rolled her eyes at their 'prospective employer.'

"That was part of a cultural-awareness festival," she explained. They continued to move through the stacks until Kristi finally heard Brent's voice.

"I'm in. Give me five to get the cameras down." Kristi nodded at Sydney who quickly spoke up. 

"O, I promised my boyfriend that I'd call him around six, and it's after seven!"

"O, don't worry dahling. There's a phone in the hall. Go call him right away." A few more anxious minutes passed as Sydney planted the device that would give Dixon access to the heat sensors, and Kristi waited for her own signal.

"They're down. Go ahead." At Brandon's words, Kristi bent down near her hostess to point out something, and released a knockout spray, pulling away quickly to avoid the effects herself. She stuffed the portfolio in her bag—no point in leaving any unnecessary evidence behind—and slipped into the hall.

"I miss you too cuteums." Sydney was having a rather one-sided conversation with the now unplugged phone.

"She's out, let's go." Kristi announced and the two made their way cautiously up the stairs. Getting into the anteroom to the vault was easy. Kristi picked one deadbolt, while Sydney managed the other two. The inside of the room looked exactly like the control room of a missile silo and the girls quickly moved to the walls where the keyholes were. 

"Three, Two, One…" at the end of Sydney's countdown, they turned the keys and the door slid slowly open. It revealed a small room with yet another door at the end: the time lock. Kristi slipped off her watch, and pressed it against the keypad and pushed the button to fake the time. She watched until the half the face turned green and paused for a second. 

"Are the sensors down?" she asked.

"I haven't heard from Dixon since I got him into the system. Wait a second." Several tense seconds passed. Sydney cocked her head slightly, listening.

"OK, we're a go."

"Kristi pressed the second button, and the remaining half of the face turned green, just before the door opened. The walked into the vault and wordlessly split up, looking for the correct box. 

"2209…here it is." Kristi opened drawer and Sydney came over and opened her case. They carefully set the camera and plates into the case and Sydney closed it up while Kristi crossed back to the door. 

"Let's get out of here." She said as she pressed a third button on her watch and shut the door. Getting back through the other door would be a little more difficult, but Sydney was already entering the 6-digit exit code Marshall had discovered in the NASA files. The door slid smoothly open, and Kristi decided that the worst was over.

"Well, it seems you're saving me the trouble of accessing the vault myself. Sydney, you must introduce me to your lovely young friend."

* * *


	13. Chapter 12: Old Enemies

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Search For A Star

Chapter 12: Old Enemies

  


Sydney was about to snap off a clever retort in an attempt to buy time when Kristi beat her too it.

"O, we've met before, Sark. Not that I expect you to remember; I've grown up a great deal since then, and for your sake I hope you have."

"Salamah?" At Sark's words Sydney was thoroughly confused. _ Kristi and Sark know each other? And why does he look slightly afraid of her?_

"So you never found out the true name of your Scarlet Pimpernel?" Kristi taunted, "I suppose that didn't please your Gordal superiors any more than my escape. Well, to be quite honest, I'd like to keep my little secret, and I'm sure Sydney will agree."

"At this point, I think Sydney will agree to whatever I ask." And before Kristi could react she found herself clutched in front of Sark with his gun pointed at her head. "Put the case down…now! Or I'll shoot her." Sydney slowly moved to do so while Kristi berated herself for falling for such a stupid trick. _Wait, I still have my ring, but if it doesn't work… I've got to time this perfectly._

"Push it over here and back against the door." Sydney slowly did so, glancing at Kristi. Kristi tried to smile thinly; she had a plan, if only it would work. As Sark began to back out the door, with her in tow, Kristi knew it was now or never. She slowly brought her right hand up towards Sark's face and pressed against the band.

Sydney watched as Sark crumbled to the ground. Kristi appeared unphased by whatever gas her ring had produced, then looked faint. She stumbled to the ground mumbling in her comm, "Brent…more tests…" Sydney had no idea what had just happened, but she didn't really want to stay around and figure it out. She pulled Kristi over her shoulder, grabbed the case with her free hand and ran out of the estate. Dixon and Brent met her in the woods.

"What happened in there?" Dixon had been able to make little sense of anything he heard.

"We ran into Sark, Kristi seemed to know him, he grabbed her and she knocked both of them out. I'm not sure I get it either." The both turned to look at Brent.

"She's going to be fine. She'll wake up in a minute and we'll explain everything. But first," he looked behind him, "I think we should get out of here before those security guys find us."

* * *

Evading the security was fairly simple and about halfway into the rush to the helipad, Kristi was awake enough to run with just a little help from Bent. They piled in and took off on the 'short hop' as Brandon put it, to the sd-6 airport. Kristi grabbed the glass of water and ibuprofen Brent offered her and downed them quickly.

"Are you alright?" Sydney may have been curious, but first and foremost she was concerned about her friend.

"I'm fine. The worst you can get from this stuff is a splitting headache and they seem to get less and less severe over time. Maybe if I do this often enough I'll develop a natural immunity." She directed this last statement at Brent, who simply responded with a skeptical look. Kristi saw that she had only added to Syd's confusion and turned back to her and Dixon.

"I guess I've got a lot to explain. Where do I start?"

"With Sark?" Sydney suggested.

"Sark. He does seem to prefer single names. When I knew him he was called Pasha. He looked very different. Dark hair, Russian accent, younger. He couldn't have been more…"Kristi paused to think, "Well, I was fifteen, so he couldn't have been more than 18 or 19."

"Where was this?" Dixon asked

"Chechnya, a prison/refugee camp in the South east called Gordal. Sd-6 had several officers being held there, as well as suppliers, contacts, informants. No one had talked but the leak potential was huge. They needed someone inside, someone who wouldn't be suspicious. I was fifteen and could look twelve or thirteen if I wanted to, and I could pose as a Muslim refugee without the slightest trouble. I made contact with our people, learned the camp routines, and we started planning and executing escapes."

"What about Sark?" Syd asked this time.

"They called him in after the third escape. We had this cat and mouse game going on for about 6 weeks. He turned the entire camp upside down, but he never suspected his enemy was the young girl who served dinner in the soup line."

"How did he find you out?"

"One of our contacts turned. It was always a blurry line, knowing who was really with you and who would crack at the first sign of danger. I made a gamble with every conversation and that time I lost. It was touch and go for a little bit, but I managed to get out and I knew the countryside better and worked my way back to Georgia and got on a train back to Istanbul."

"At which point we all had thought you were dead for about 2 weeks." Brent interjected, making it clear that Kristi had left out a great deal of the danger she'd been in. 

"Well at least you hadn't scheduled my funeral." Kristi retorted.

"So that explains the Scarlet Pimpernel." Sydney mused.

"I thought you'd pick up on that," Kristi smiled. "It sort of became a symbol of the mind game. I'd leave in on a scrap of paper or scratch it in a post."

"What?" Dixon was still confused, and since Kristi looked rather tired, Sydney explained.

"The Scarlet Pimpernel is a novel written about an Englishman who rescued the nobility from the guillotine during the French Revolution. Whenever he rescued someone, he'd leave a small flower, the scarlet Pimpernel behind."

"Clever." Dixon nodded at Kristi. "So how did you make him pass out."

"O, that's one of mine and Brent's projects. There are lots of knockout sprays out there. Our idea is to develop a strain that no one else knows about and then create a way to make ourselves immune to it. It just doesn't quite work yet, cause I keep knocking myself out too. But in this situation, with two of us to one of him, it worked out anyways."

"That'll be an impressive defense if you can make it work," Dixon told her.

"Thanks, I think I'm going to go sleep off this headache."

"I'll grab you a blanket," Brent offered. "When you wake up, we can watch some DVD's."

"Cool, what did you get?"

"Um, let's see," he picked up a short stack, "The Lord of the Rings, Titanic, Miss Congeniality." Brent looked up guiltily to see Kristi and Sydney glaring at him.

"Absolutely not."

* * *


	14. Chapter 13: A Pair of Meetings

****

Search For A Star

Chapter 13: A Pair Of Meetings

  


"Syd, hold on a second." Sydney turned at the sound of her name, mentally cursing this interruption. She was already going to be late for a meeting with Vaughn, and now this.

"I got the pictures developed. I was kind of anxious to see how they turned out, so I took them to this one hour place." Kristi handed her an envelope full of pictures.

"You know I'd love to look them over, but I'm already late for an appointment…"

"Keep them. I got doubles. I'll call you tonight and we can compare favorites."

"Thanks, I will." Kristi grinned and returned to her desk, while Sydney walked towards the elevator and out of sd-6. 

* * *

"So Kristi knew Sark?" Vaughn said, surprised that they would have run into each other.

"Apparently she not only knew him, but got the best of him as well."

"Wow, well if she ever perfects that knockout spray, try to get us the intel on it." 

"OK, do we have anything on those photographs yet?" Sydney asked.

"No," Vaughn frowned, "we've got people working on it, but deciphering the pattern won't be easy."

"So it should be a while before sd-6 realizes their information is false?"

"Yeah, but that's not the main reason I asked you here." Vaughn paused, knowing how difficult this was going to be for Sydney. "The CIA wants you to put together a profile of Kristi. It looks like she's going to be one of their major assets, and we need to know as much as possible about her: strengths, weakness, hobbies, what kind of breakfast cereal she likes. Everything you can find."

Sydney looked stricken, and Vaughn hated asking this of her. "She…she's…"

"…your friend, I know, and it seems like you're betraying her, but I think if she knew she'd thank you."

"Yeah," Sydney nodded, although Vaughn could tell her reluctance remained. "I guess I should give you back this." Sydney reached into her purse for the attachment he'd given her, and accidentally dropped the envelope of pictures on the floor. Vaughn bent down immediately to pick them up, then stopped abruptly when he saw the subjects. It wasn't just the beautiful dress or hairstyle that caught his attention, but her smile that captivated him. It was so natural, so free from all the stress and care she usually felt. The pictures he saw captured an honest, carefree moment, something he knew was rare for Sydney.

Sydney swiftly shoved the pictures back into her purse, and explained quickly. "Kristi grabbed a camera at the airport and insisted on using all the film. She was rather obsessed with her dress."

"Looks like you guys had a good time." Vaughn smiled at her. Getting to see a happy Sydney, even in just a picture, made his day.

"Yeah, we really did. She's like the little sister I always wanted."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Brandon said as he and Kristi stepped down from the small twin-engine plane. 

"Yeah, are you sure you don't want to come with me?" Kristi said, walking out of the small, private airport.

"Nothing that man says can bring Mom back. I just don't see that there's any point."

"OK," Kristi shrugged. They'd been through this several times already and she wasn't going to push the point. She hailed a cab and gave the driver her destination: San Quentin State Penitentiary. He dropped her off just outside the security gate and Kristi paid the fare. 

"Purpose?" The security guard asked bluntly.

"I'm here to visit someone."

"Name of the prisoner?"

"Kenneth Maxwell."

"Relationship?"

"I'm…" Kristi wasn't sure how to put it nicely. _I'm the daughter of one of the women he brutally raped and murdered?_ "I'm…just a friend. Kristina Zahlan." It was anything but the truth, but Kristi was all too used to lies.

"ID?" Kristi showed it to him.

"Alright. You're on the list, but there's a condition. You gotta talk to the guy's attorney first. He's waiting in the visitor's lobby" He gave her instructions to the Maximum security area and Kristi went on through. She repeated the ID process once inside, and passed through a metal detector. A nervous looking man in a three piece suit was the only person inside.

"Hello, you must be, ah, Kristina Zahlan. I'm T. Harris Logan, ah, Mr. Maxwell's attorney." Kristi briefly wondered why all lawyers seemed to use their first initial and middle name. _Maybe it's a requirement for passing the bar._ At Kristi's nod, he continued.

"Mr. Maxwell was very, ah, surprised at your wish to see him. It's an, ah, unusual request."

"And so you decided to meet me first and ascertain my motives?" Kristi didn't want to wait through any more of this man's stuttering and polite phrases. "I understand perfectly. You don't want be coming in here and 'upsetting' your client with a string of accusations."

"Well, ah, yes."

"Well, I'll be blunt with you, Mr. Logan. I'm not totally sure why I'm here. My parents both died when I was young, and I'm trying to discover what they were like. Somehow I feel that Mr. Maxwell is one of the pieces to the puzzle."

The attorney didn't seem to know what to say to that, but was not the type to stay silent.

"Well, ah, that'll be…fine." He then called one of the guards and disappeared. 

It took them almost a half an hour to bring Maxwell down. Kristi started thinking. _What in the world am I doing here? What can I possibly have to say to this man?_ She contemplated getting up and leaving right then, but her curiosity held her in place. Finally, Kristi was shown to a small glass both, and sat down. The guards brought in the prisoner, who looked at her with this amused and suspicious face. When they left he was the first to speak. Kristi was still in shock over how gentile and well-groomed Maxwell looked. He was not the low-life gangster she'd expected.

"So are you here to scream at me, or tell me you 'forgive' me?" the man asked sarcastically, surprising Kristi further.

"If you expected that why did you agree to see me?"

"Nothing better to do on death row." Kristi decided that understanding him was pointless and moved on. 

"My mother was killed when I was nine. I'm trying to find some answers about it all. Why did you choose this woman, of all the women in LA to rape and murder?" Kristi pulled out a small photograph of her mother and held it up to the glass. Maxwell slowly turned his eyes to examine it. Kristi studied his face. There was absolutely no recognition at all. Kristi thought she knew fake looks of surprise, or unfamiliarity, and this man's expressions seemed totally genuine. _Either he's very good, he's a psychopath, or…_

"You didn't kill her did you?"

"My attorney told the papers I did it."

"Why?" The prisoner was silent.

"You didn't admit to any of the other crimes," Kristi continued, the pieces falling into place in her head, as she remembered the things she'd read. "You clung to your innocence to the very end of the trial, and then, right after the sentencing, they tie you to my mother's death and word leaks out of your confession. Why?" Maxwell again refused to speak. 

"I think I know why. The guard said there's a very good chance that the 9th Circuit Court will let you off the row next month. Reduce it to life, maybe even throw out the entire case and send you home, even though you don't have a good case for it. And the prosecutor is not likely to appeal it to the Supreme Court." There was still no comment from behind the glass.

"You want to know what I think? I think you struck a deal with someone. You took the fall for my mother, and they're going to get you out of here. Who was it?"

"You're crazy, kid! I don't know what you're talking about!" The man's expressions were still unreadable.

"Was it K-directorate, FTL, the mafia, the Iranian Government, just give me a name and I'll go away and never come back."

"I don't know, honest," the man looked like he was about come unhinged. "We never saw them; they just called my lawyer, with one of those voice distortion boxes. I sent them my semen to fake the DNA, and they tell me to file the appeal and everything will work out. That's all I know, honest."

Kristi didn't know whether to believe the guy nor not. He looked frightened enough to tell her everything, but he could always be telling her what she wanted to hear. 

"Alright, I won't be back." She walked back through the gat and called the cab, keeping her composure. Waiting outside the gate, though, the façade crumbled. Tears began to pour down her face. _I have absolutely no idea what I just discovered. I thought there was something too perfect about the DNA evidence. Did somebody managed to fake the entire CIA into believing this man really killed my father, or did he really do it. Was this a random act of hate or an act of revenge? And if it was revenge, why would the CIA miss it? Why would my father's enemies bother to cover it up?_ Kristi didn't know what to believe anymore. Her cab pulled up and Kristi decided she wanted nothing more than to get back home and talk this over with Brandon and Brent.

  


A/N: So sorry it took so long to get this up, but I promise I'll make it up to you by posting two chaps today, and one tomorrow or Friday!!! Reviews do help me post faster, and I particularly appreciate constructive criticism!!


	15. Chapter 14: Unsettling Revelations

****

Search For A Star

Chapter 14: Unsettling Revelations 

  


"Brent, look at this." Kristi walked into his room and held out a stack of papers. Brandon had been pretty silent on the plane. Kristi knew he didn't really want to hear about the experience, and she didn't want to bring up her suspicions until she had time to think about it. But now it was time to get some confirmation. 

"You did most of the DNA analysis for the Al-Basqua case," she continued, "tell me your opinion of this match." 

"What is it?" He asked as he took the documents.

"Just tell me what you think first, and then I'll explain."

"OK, I'll call you when I'm done." He finished his examination in about a half an hour and called Kristi.

"OK, so are you going to explain what this is?" He asked again.

"First of all tell me what you think of it." She insisted.

"It's fake, planted. Looks like the sort of thing they'd set up for a training scenario. No match is that perfect, not in 1992."

"You're sure?"

"Well, it could be real, but the odds are…really low. So what is it?"

"The DNA link from my Mother's autopsy to Kenneth Maxwell." He stared at her, as the news sunk in.

"You suspected that, didn't you, and you wanted me to confirm it?" As usual Brent could guess Kristi's line of reasoning. "What happened at San Quentin?"

"He didn't recognize the picture. And when I pressed him about it, he admitted it was a setup. After the convictions for the other crimes, his lawyer was contacted by someone who wanted to fake a link to my mother's death in exchange for getting Maxwell's sentence reduced on appeal."

"Do you think he was telling the truth?"

"I don't know; if you were on death row and someone thought you were innocent, would you go along with them? But if we have the confirmation that the DNA is fake, then…" Kristi sat down on his bed and put her face in her hands, overwhelmed by what was going on.

"Hey, wha—" Brandon walked into the room and stopped abruptly when he saw Kristi on the verge of tears.

"We think the evidence linking Maxwell to your Mother's death might be faked, and Maxwell admitted it was a setup." Brent explained gently.

"Seriously…" the younger boy trailed off. "But if that guy didn't kill my Mother then who did?" The angry tone of voice conveyed his frustration about not having concrete answers. Brandon could deal with the fact that a man sitting on death row had killed his mother. What got to him was not knowing who was responsible for such cruelty. 

"Whoever did the setup, I'd guess. Maxwell didn't know who they were." Kristi was recovering quickly. "But I intend to find out."

"I'm with you."

* * *

"We have new intel on Sark's whereabouts?" Kristi asked, sitting down at the conference table with Brent and Brandon taking their places on either side of her. They'd only been told about the meeting a few minutes before arriving at work the next morning.

"Unfortunately, no." Sloane replied from the head of the table, "We have a different type of mission for you. Simple reconnaissance on civilians."

"A recon mission?" Brandon asked, a little put off at basic things Sloane was asking of them.

"It may be a simple mission," Jack Bristow replied, knocking Brandon's cockiness down a few notches with a pointed look, "but it required agents who can pose as high school students. You three."

"What sort of recon mission requires high school students?" Brent asked. 

"Well actually it's a scouting and recruitment mission. You'll be attending the National Youth Leadership Forum on Defense, Intelligence and Diplomacy in DC. The Forum is a private organization that tries to expose students those careers. We've found that it's a good place to find potential candidates."

"You want us to approach high school students for recruitment?" Kristi asked. The surprise in her voice matched what Brent himself was feeling. He wondered if Sloane had lost his mind. Not only was it illegal, but there was too much margin of error. Who knew how teens would respond, or what they might say. 

"No, I only want a list of 15-20 potential names and as much intel about them you can gather. You know the general profile?"

"Yes, high intelligence, problem solving, leadership abilities," Brent responded.

"Athletic ability or potential, good hand-eye coordination." Brandon added.

"And fewer close relationship, some natural reserve, and the ability to play a role," Kristi finished. 

"You've got most of it," Jack nodded.

"You'll meet with Hampton from recruitment to go over the full profile, some techniques for gathering person intel and assessing potentials." 

"What about our covers?" Brent asked glancing quickly at Kristi. It was a question she often asked, but this time she seemed slightly distracted. It was anything but obvious, but Brent knew her too well, and he knew that what she'd learned yesterday was still bothering her. 

"And the op-tech?" Brandon wasn't quiet, but he did seem a little edgy. Brent wondered if they were going to be able to get through this mission with 2/3 of the group acting so unlike themselves. _Then again, it's not like I'm totally unaffected by this either._

"Both are simple," Sloane replied, handed them three folders with dossiers, ID's and contact information inside. The three young agents quickly scanned through them. "Any questions?"

"It seems pretty straightforward," Kristi replied, "Electronic tickets for the flight?"

"They've emailed you the confirmation numbers."

"Then I suppose we're set." Brent decided not to worry about it. Kristi and Brandon were professionals, and if they could maintain their covers while infiltrating the Taliban, then they could manage with a group of high school students, distractions or no distractions.

* * *

"Kristi, I need to talk to you." Kristi wondered why her brother was speaking so softly, but leaned over her monitor and answered him. 

"About what?" 

"Not here. It's…uh…personal." This seemed very odd to Kristi. She almost always could tell when her brother was lying, and she knew something odd was up. 

"OK, wanna go somewhere for lunch?" 

"Yeah, sounds good." 

They left a little while later and Kristi found a table at the back of a rather crowded, noisy restaurant. To her surprise, Brandon brought along his laptop. I didn't know he was that attached to it. 

"OK, so what's bothering you? Something personal, about Mom?" 

"No," his look turned pensive at Kristi's mention of their mother, "I still don't know what to think about that. But this is really serious, about work. I just didn't want anyone to hear us there." 

"So we're hiding this from sd-6." Kristi was feeling pretty uncomfortable with that idea, keeping secrets from her own boss was a risky matter. 

"I just wanted to tell you first, 'cause I'm not sure what to do." Brandon looked as scared as she felt, and Kristi realized she needed to just listen. 

"Why don't you explain it to me first, and then we'll worry about what to do." 

"OK, well I was cleaning off a bunch of junk files from my computer. Every time we hack a network, you get a bunch of random files before you find the data you need. So off the files from Musconii's I found this." He plugged a set of headphones into his laptop, handed them to her, and played a short file. 

"Freelancer out." The words were slightly jumbled, but recognizable. 

"What is it?" Kristi asked. 

"Apparently Musconii was tapping his own phones. That was part of a signal that came from the hallway phone, while Sydney was using it." 

"Are you saying…but she unplugged the phone." 

"The bug was probably wireless. She was communicating with somebody, Kris, somebody other than us." 

"I don't believe…" 

"There's more. You know I was monitoring security at the airport, just to make sure they didn't get suspicious of the camera." 

"Yeah." Kristi felt herself going into shock. _This is not happening. This first real friend I make in over six years cannot be the enemy._

"Well, I found this." He started to play security footage. "There's Sydney, and that man. You can't see his face, but it looks like they're swapping cases." 

"That's impossible." Kristi grasped for ways to defend her friend. "I was with her the entire time…no…I did run to the restroom, but…" 

"Kris, we have to do something with this. There's no other possible explanation." 

"Brandon, she's my friend! I can't betray her like this." 

"She's betraying us, Kris. We don't have any other choice. I'm taking this to Sloane." 

* * *


	16. Chapter 15: Dihydrogen Oxide

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Search For A Star

Chapter 15: Dihydrogen Oxide

  


Kristi sat in the booth, staring at the scratches in their table. She felt like her world was spinning out of control. _This is just too much; I haven't even been able to process what I'm discovering about my father and my mother, and now to deal with this…_"Give me a day Brandon. Go to Sloane tomorrow morning. We have to check in with him before we leave. Just give me a day to think about this, to find an explanation…"

"What explanation?" He cut her off.

"I don't know; maybe there isn't one. Just give me a day to accept this."

"You won't say a word to Sydney? If she thinks we know she'll be gone..."

"Brandon, I know better than that." There was a touch of anger in Kristi's tone.

"Well, if you were sitting here with Sydney talking about me, then you'd come to me right away."

"You're family. I've known you all my life. There's a difference."

"OK, ok," Brandon acquiesced, "I just wanted to make sure you haven't lost your objectivity with her."

Kristi sighed, "I probably have," she admitted reluctantly. "I've just never had a friend like her before, and to find out that she's betraying all of us…"

"I know sis, I know." He reached out and patted her hand. Kristi smiled thinly; _at least I'll always be able to trust you guys. _

* * *

"I'm going for a drive." Kristi announced. The three of them had just arrived home, after being given the afternoon off to pack and prepare for the mission. 

"Ok," Brent was a bit perplexed by her actions, but saw nothing unusual in her wanting to take a drive. "Are you going to be back for dinner?"

"I don't know; it's not like you can't cook." Brent nodded. Sure, she was acting unusual, but it was probably just from worrying about what happened to her mom. 

"Kristi? Are you…" Brandon's tone was definitely more concerned.

"We've been over this, OK. I'm just going for a drive, to think." Kristi's tone was definitely testy, and Brent was becoming more than a little confused. 

"OK, so what's up with you two? You've been acting weird since lunch."

"You'd better tell him," Kristi said to Brandon, "I'll be back before it gets too late." 

* * *

Kristi had no idea where she was going, but wasn't really surprised when she ended up at the beach. There was something about the crash of the waves was the same everywhere. Well, maybe the percentage of salt differed between here to and the Bosporus and Dardanelles straits near Istanbul, but Kristi was here to think, not analyze the water. She got out of the car and walked over to a large rock. As she leaned against it Kristi though she saw a familiar figure running up the beach towards her. _Sydney? Here of all places I run into one of the people I can't get off my mind._ Thoughts of Sydney immediately threw Kristi into turmoil. 

"Maybe I should just walk up there and explain everything to her." Kristi said softly, speaking to herself. "There's got to be some explanation, even if Brandon and I can't see it." Sydney couldn't be a traitor. All of Kristi's instincts said so, but the facts were so heavy. _What if she is a traitor,_ the nagging voice in Kristi's head reminded her, _what if she's working against you, and the minute you open your mouth, you put her on alert. _ If she was innocent, then security section would discover that, and no harm would be done. And if she was guilty, then Kristi would be doing her country a service. _You don't know who she's working for, or how she's been working against you. For all you know, she's working for the people who killed your mother._

"NO! The Sydney I know would not be involved in that…or would she…?" Kristi's voice died away as she tried to convince herself one way or the other.

Kristi's thoughts were interrupted as the runner came within hearing distance. She sat there, still not sure if she should speak out. Suddenly, the runner turned. A strange face glanced at Kristi and continued down the beach. Kristi sighed in relief, but it was temporary. _What if that had been Syd? I had no idea what to do._

She remembered what Abu Assisi, her training instructor, had said, "You are a spy, and spies know people. Learn to read people." Kristi had always thought she'd learned that lesson. She could spot at suicide bomber from the look in his eyes. She could talk to a scientist about his work for 5 minutes and tell you he was producing chemical weapons. _But I can't even determine if my friend is lying to me. I haven't really trusted anyone but Brandon and Brent in years, and the first person I open up to is betraying me. What kind of judge of character am I? I don't know my father well enough to know if his last mission report was fake, and I can't read Maxwell to determine if he's lying about my mother. _

Ever since she came to Los Angeles, she'd been off, out of her element, not knowing what to believe. _I want to go back, to Istanbul where everything was simpler. Where my curiosity about my parents was just a lingering in the back of my mind, and I didn't have to worry about getting close to anyone but Brandon and Brent._ But Kristi knew full well that going back wouldn't change anything. She'd opened Pandora's Box, and there was no shutting the lid. She couldn't change what she knew or who she knew. But accepting that didn't give her any answers about what to do.

* * * 

Sydney walked along the pier, thinking and staring out into the peaceful bay. There was a temptation to call Vaughn. There was always a temptation to call him when she didn't know what to do, but as usual, she pushed it aside. It simply wasn't safe to call him about every little problem and the last thing she wanted was to be responsible for another death, especially his. 

So she walked along the pier, alone, thinking mostly about Kristi. Kristi and the assignment to find out about her. Sydney had acquired some of Kristi's records that afternoon. She had clearance to access most of Kristi's file; if Sloane ever asked her about it she would simply say she was trying to determine the capabilities of an agent she expected to work with frequently. It would be true. She was trying to determine Kristi's capabilities, but she was also trying to determine how valuable the young agent was to sd-6, and how much stronger she would make them. 

What she read was fascinating, but sad at the same time. Sydney remembered what Kristi had said about being recruited 6 years previously, but had never actually done the math. _She was only 13, and her brother was only 12. She found out about sd-6, and the only option was to join. _Sydney was not surprised to find that Sloane had contemplated eliminating the children. _A man who would kill his own wife for a seat on the Alliance board of directors would have no qualms about murdering 3 innocent children._ But her own father had persuaded Sloane that the 3 middle-schoolers had the capability of becoming sd-6 agents. That they were too talented to waste, and their youth was an advantage that made them more teachable. 

Sydney didn't know what to think of this. On one hand, he saved their lives…but he condemned them to living this life, at an age where they could so easily be influenced. _They've grown up knowing nothing but sd-6 propaganda, and he knew that would happen._ Something told Sydney there had to have been another option. Her father had faked Hassan's death and put him into CIA custody. _How hard would it be to do that with the children and put them in witness protection? I know I wasn't there, but some of his decisions are so hard to accept. He made the decision to join sd-6 for all of them. They had no choice about being deceived. Kristi doesn't deserve to be deluded. No one there does. _But Sydney knew she couldn't tell any of them. Not Dixon; the risk to his family was simply too high. Sydney could never live with herself if anything happened to them. Not Marshall; despite his bumbling humor, there was no telling how much he really knew about sd-6. And most of all not Kristi; she'd been indoctrinated by sd-6 for so long, who knew how she'd react? 

_But how can I blame my father, when every time I keep silent, I continue the delusion. Will Kristi, and Dixon, and Marshall, look at me someday, when it's all over, and ask me why I didn't stop them from wasting their lives slaving for a man like Sloane?_ Sydney continued to walk, her eyes on the calm waters. There were no easy answers. 

* * *


	17. Chapter 16: The Calm Before the Storm

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Search For A Star

Chapter 16: The Calm Before the Storm

  


Kristi did not want to go in to work the next morning. She knew it was necessary, but she did not want to be there when Brandon broke the news to Sloane. But of course, her sense of duty won out as usual, and that was how she found herself in the sd-6 elevator at 5 o'clock in the morning, ready to pick up the contact information she would need in DC. The elevator doors opened at sublevel 6 and Kristi walked into the screening room with Brandon behind her. Brent was already at the airport, as his plane left the earliest. 

_Whoever monitors these scans is in for something unusual_, Kristi thought as she glanced down over their appearances. For this op, a disguise wouldn't normally be necessary. After all, it was so low risk that she was using her own first name and a fake last one. But she and Brandon looked too much like brother and sister and might arouse suspicion. So he had covered his deep blue eyes with brown contacts, and she had…well… butchered her hair. It was a great dye job, she had to admit, but it was ugly. She had preserved the black at the top, and faded it into purple as she went down, ending with magenta tips. With dark lipstick and magenta eye shadow, she had managed to create a punk/Goth look. Her clothes were more professional, as mandated by the National Youth Leadership Forum dress code, but the leather jacket and high-heeled leather boots completed the look. At any rate, her character, that of a rebellious, Goth chick whose parents were forcing her to attend "some dumb convention" would directly contrast with her brother's. 

"Brandon…uh…where's the uniform from?" Marshall asked, popping out of his office, a gadget in hand. _Only Marshall would show up at sd-6 at this hour. Except Sloane, of course; since his wife died, he seems to live here. _

"Junior ROTC," Brandon replied, adjusting one of the medals he'd memorized the names of the night before. With his new military buzz cut, he fit perfectly into the mode of the West Point hopeful who was eager to "be all he could be." _Not in a million years would anyone guess that we are brother and sister. _

When Brandon went into Sloane's office, Kristi went to get the last minute op-tech from Marshall. There was no way she could just hang around and watch this pan out. Something about the whole situation set wrong with her, but she stuffed the feelings back inside and tried to ignore Sloane's closed door. 

"OK, so you take the CD…put it in the computer and...uh...burn the files on it. Y'know, music…or data or…"

"I'm a teenager, Marshall. I got it." Kristi grinned in spite of herself.

"OK, so you put the music or whatever on the CD, but first you run your report through this." He held up another CD and booted up her laptop to begin installing the software." This program…compresses files by a factor of 10…and even if someone notices it…they're invisible…no else even knows it's there." 

"Gotcha. What about this?" She asked, indicating the small, metal device he had held the entire time. 

"O, that. Different mission. I'm actually going on it myself." Marshall seemed to get downright hyper at that remark. "But this puppy," Marshall could not resist a good explanation even if it was unnecessary, "amazing. Super sensitive mass spectronomy. You just have to get a microscopic sample, a few milligrams at most. Off the outside of something, trace residues, a little gas condensation. Put it here." He opened the device." Burn it, record the wavelengths of the light it produces."

"And you can determine the composition. That is cool. And to think I sat in undergraduate chem with a prism and a Bunsen Burner trying to record wavelengths."

"Heh. Yeah. Here I'll show you." He looked around for something to analyze. Just then Brandon opened the door and looked it.

"Kristi, I'm done, are you set?"

"Yeah," she stood and looked at Marshall. "Another time OK?"

"Sure." Marshall returned to tinkering with the device, as Kristi wondered at Sloane's reaction to her brother's news.

* * *

Sydney was jolted away by annoying ring. _There is nothing more annoying than a phone call at 5:30 in the morning_, she thought as she reached for the phone by her bed. Francie must have beaten her to it, as she heard her friend's voice through the receiver.

"NO, this is not! What kind of idiot orders pizza at 5 in the morning?!" _OK, having a 5:30 am meeting is more annoying than a phone call._ Sydney got up slowly and trudged to the bathroom. Apparently Francie had the same idea and stepped out just as Sydney was about to knock.

"Can you believe that? Some people are just insane!" Yeah, and then there are the people for whom this is completely normal. 

"Yeah, it's crazy." Francie slipped back to bed, and Syd walked into the kitchen and made a cup of tea. As soon as she was sure Francie was out, she jogged over to the warehouse. Vaughn was there waiting as usual, looking much too awake for this hour. 

"So Sloane is sending you to Kazakhstan?"

"Yeah, it came up at the last minute yesterday afternoon."

* * *

"The bug you planted in Cap Ferrat is proving its usefulness." Sloane had explained from his seat at the head of the conference table." 

"We intercepted a transmission from Sark and Ravais," Jack interjected as the screen showed the image of the man who owned the estate where she'd found Vaughn, "that discussed a shipment of chemical and biological weapons." 

"They've put the shipment in storage. Due to the crumbling state of their organization," Sloane continued, "it should be possible to confiscate the shipment."

* * *

"He actually used the word 'confiscate?'" Vaughn asked, incredulously.

"Yeah," Sydney gave an ironic grin. "But why did you let sd-6 pick up that conversation? Sd-6 should have never found out about those weapons in the first place."

"It was an oversight by someone in ops." Vaughn did not seem pleased. "The conversation didn't seem important at the beginning, and by the time they got to the shipment, we'd already let sd-6 hear the beginning of it. It'd be too suspicious to cut it off, but we did manage to splice out the description of what type of weapons they are."

"Yeah, sd-6 is sending Marshall with the team to determine that onsite."

"He should find several suitcases full of mustard gas with a time-release mechanism. It takes a code to activate the release, so you shouldn't have to worry about it going off."

"That'd be nice."

"So you and Dixon will take the shipment from Sark's storage facility, and then be hijacked by a cell of the Red Coalition." 

"You?" Sydney grinned, guessing the CIA team's cover.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"So my counter mission is to not resist?"

"Well, you're going to be outnumbered and outgunned, so put on a good show for Dixon's benefit, but don't get yourself hurt. We want you sitting in the back corner of the van, so we can deal with the rest of the team with as little risk to you as possible."

"Okay," Sydney replied.

"How's the investigation on Kristi coming?" Syd smiled inwardly at the hesitant way he brought it up. 

"Alright, I'm not finding much that is useful, but I did learn that her father worked at Langley for quite some time before he was recruited to sd-6. They might have some useful records on him, even some notes on Kristi's childhood."

"I'll check. Devlin wants me to catch a training seminar before I come back here, so I can look into it." Vaughn nodded.

"Thanks." She grinned. "See you in Kazakhstan."

"I'd be lying if I said this wasn't a high-risk situation, Syd. Be careful." He gave her a long earnest look, and Sydney realized how concerned he was.

"I will." She promised before breaking their stare and walking out the door. If she had turned around she might have seen how Vaughn watched her go, studying her as if it might be his last chance. 


	18. Chapter 17: The Hardest Thing

Search For A Star

Chapter 17: Conflict

  


Kristi was tired of whatever was going on. Brandon had barely spoken a word to her since they'd left sd-6, and now as she sat by him on the plane, she got the distinct feeling that he was upset with her. She hadn't the faintest idea why, but the tension between the two of them increasing by the moment. 

"So what did he say?" When Brandon looked at her blankly she continued, "Look it's obvious that something's been bothering you since you left his office. What happened in there?"

"He wasn't there." Brandon said coolly, switching to Farsi. 

"What do you mean?"

"He had a meeting, in London. Bristow gave me the contact information."

"Did you…say anything?"

"I'm not stupid, Kristi. Telling Bristow his daughter's a double would be about the same as tell her." Kristi felt the world come off her shoulder's at that remark. I haven't done anything I can't take back. There's still time.

"You're happy about this, aren't you?" Brandon accused.

"Yes, I—"

"She's going on a mission, Kristi. I only saw part of the paperwork, but she's leaving today. What if she double-crosses us again? What if someone dies on that mission because she's working against us? What if someone's father dies?"

"I don't think she's capable of that. There's some piece of this puzzle we don't have. This gives us time to find out."

"Time you arranged for?" 

"What are you implying?"

"Did you know Sloane was going to be gone when you told me to put this off until the morning?"

Kristi looked shocked. "No, I didn't. Do you trust anyone anymore?"

"Someone has got to be skeptical. I look at the evidence and make an honest decision for the good of the county."

"You aren't even willing to consider the possibility that she's not a traitor."

"What other option is there, Kristi? I'm going to Sloane as soon as we get back. I have to, before other innocent, loyal agents die."

"We're attracting too much attention." Kristi said softly. Brandon glanced around at their fellow passengers, a few who seemed a little to interesting in the two teens arguing in a foreign language. He clamed up and stared out the window. Kristi let him. She didn't really know what to do, but at least she had a week to figure it out. 

* * * 

Sydney peered down the sights of her sniper rifle, and spotted the solitary guard. From her perch at the top of the wall, surrounding the storage facility, she could see him pacing back and forth between the three entrances. With the collapse of Derevko's organization, most of the security forces had been needed to stabilize things and had been stretched to protect assets. Dixon was to disable the guard monitoring the cameras, and Syd expected to face a several more inside.

"Syd, I've disabled the cameras. You're on," came through her comm. At dixon's signal she quickly proceed to shoot the guard at the gate, and motion the other members of the team forward. They'd disable the guards inside, while she sought out the weapons and called for Marshall. It was never as simple as it sounded, and Sydney had to fight off two of the guards herself before locating the weapons in unit DG-1. 

"The facility is secure," came the word from the other team members as Sydney opened the door with the card key she'd found in one of the guard's pockets. 

"Copy that. I'm in, send Marshall." He arrived a few minutes later, knowing exactly where to find the unit, but looking a little uncomfortable outside of the safety of the sd-6 offices. He looked down at the three suitcases in the room, the only objects present, and bent down to examine them.

  



	19. Chapter 18: Making Plans

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Search For A Star

Chapter 18: Making Plans

  


Brent walked through the boarding gate and turned to find the baggage claim with the ease of an experienced traveler. He found the suitcase quickly, for once, and walked off in search of baggage claim E. It was at the other end of Regan International Airport, but he walked swiftly, keeping alert as always. He found a group of teens lounging around, watched over by a young woman with an NYLF t-shirt sitting beneath a banner that said Welcome National Youth Leadership Forum students.

"Hi," the woman said as he approached. "I'm Susan Stanley, one of the NYLF staff members. Your name?" 

"Brent Armstrong." She checked him off her list. 

"OK, the next shuttle to the hotel is in about 45 minutes, so you can just hang loose until then. Set your luggage in the pile there. We're keeping an eye on it, if you want to go get something to eat." 

"OK thanks." He turned to the group of kids that were lounging around. _May as well start looking for the potential spies._ He set his suitcase down, and checked his briefcase to be sure it was locked. With the assurance that no one would be able to get inside it, he walked over to join a few guys who were sitting on a row of airport style bench/chairs. 

"Have a seat," a tall, blonde, husky guy told him. "I'm Paul."

"And I'm Joel," the smaller, skinny boy with freckles beside him added. 

"Brent. Nice to meet you all." The third member of the trio was apparently another military buff, with a buzz cut and an ROTC uniform who gave the name Jason.

"Where're you from?" Joel asked.

"LA, and you?" They continued to talk, asking some basic questions before the questions turned to sports. It was an easy way to pass the time, and soon the shuttle bus arrived for the drive to the hotel. The drive to Arlington, Virginia, took about a half an hour, so the guys continued talking. As the conversation flowed, Brent began to make his initial assessments. Jason might have made a good spy, but within five minutes of talking to him, it was obvious there was no life for him but the Navy. His father had been a seaman, his grandfather had been a Captain in WWII, and he was dead set on Annapolis. _Well, he'll probably make a great admiral someday. _ Paul struck him as simply too all American to be a spy. Just from an hour of conversation, Brent doubted the teen had a devious bone in his body. Joel, on the other hand, seemed to have the least potential, but the more they talked, the less sure Brent was. As a field agent, Joel would be useless, but his computer skills were amazing. And he knew a lot of useless trivia; a wide range of knowledge was always important for a tech guy. _I may have found the next Marshall; scary thought. _

The guys walked into the hotel after the bus dropped them off, and quickly registered, receiving their room assignments. There wasn't much to do until dinner, but the hotel had an arcade, so they played some games and shot some pool. Brent kept an eye out for Joel and tried to form some general impressions of the other students. It'd be easier once they started the scheduled activities, but it couldn't hurt to watch.

* * *

Kristi doodled Lewis structures of various molecules on her notepad as the keynote speaker continued on. It wasn't that he was necessarily boring, just that little he said seemed to apply to her life. He talked about the importance of being a leader, the qualities that were necessary, and various pitfalls to avoid. Somehow after spending the better portion of her teens with her life endangered, Kristi simply wasn't concerned with a lack of vision, or focus. And when the speaker started talking about conquering fears, she gave up completely. _I wonder what it would be like to be a normal teen, to actually be impacted by some of this._ But try as she might to picture it, it was impossible, her life was simply too strange, right from the beginning. Take away everything that made her atypical and she wouldn't even be the same person.

Kristi looked up and glanced around to see if she could spot Brandon or Brent. She hadn't seen either of them since she'd left Brandon at O'Hare to take a later connection. They hadn't spoken on the remainder of the plane ride, except to say goodbye. She'd gotten in just in time for dinner. 

Finally she spotted Brent a few tables down. He caught her eye, and with a look and nod told her he'd contact her. So she doodled through the rest of the talk, trying to see if she could learn anything about the students around her from their reactions. When it was over, she stood and put the pen and notepad in her purse, then set it on her seat as she pulled on her jacket. Brent passed by and dropped a small slip of paper in her purse in a smooth brush pass. Kristi grabbed the purse and walked out of the dining room. Everyone in the lobby seemed engrossed in their own business, so she carefully read the note. "East stairway, basement, 9:40." She looked up to find Brent covertly watching her from across the room and nodded quickly before heading up to her room.

* * *

Kristi sighed as she sat down on her bed. She was tired, although she really had no reason to be. This week would really be a vacation for her; no late nights running experiments, no physically demanding smash and grab missions. With just a three-hour time change, she didn't even really have to worry about jet lag. But she was tired, and Kristi knew that all the emotional turmoil over the past few days was the cause. And there was no sign that it would let up until she found the answers. 

With that in mind, Kristi reached into her suitcase and pulled out her father's copy of the Qu'ran. She'd uncovered it the day before while unpacking the last of the boxes. Somehow the small box containing her father's personal belongings was much more interesting in light of her search. There wasn't much in it; the numerous moves she'd made since his death had pared down the sentimental things she'd carried around with her. The copy of the Qu'ran had caught her eye for two reasons. First of all, it looked very well worn. Her father had never been very devout; that was her mother's role. The second reason might have seemed inconsequential, but was even more puzzling. The book was a Farsi translation. Of course, Farsi was her father's native language, but his Arabic was fluent. Why would he rely on a translation when he could easily read the original, the Arabic scriptures that were considered to be the pure and unaltered revelations of the Prophet? To the average American it might not mean much, but Kristi was raised in a Muslim world and knew the value placed on the Arabic scriptures. The only explanation she could think of was that it was a childhood gift, and the idea of a link to her father's never spoken of childhood was enough to make place it carefully in her suitcase. 

Now she pulled it out, and flipped to the front. If it was a childhood gift, then it would be noted as such on the inside cover. But there was no inscription, and the copyright dates for the translation indicated that her father had to have been at least in his teens when he received it. Kristi was genuinely confused, and casually flipped through the pages. Then a small piece of paper fell from between the pages. Kristi carefully unfolded it to see a series of numbers. (1/37/4-6) (2/17/18) they continued, 26 groups of three set in parenthesis and separated by slashes. It had to be some type of code, but it didn't look like anything Kristi had seen before. She had a couple of code breaking programs on her computer, and she swiftly typed in the numbers. While the computer worked away, Kristi flipped through the rest of the book, looking for further clues. There was nothing overly suspicious. Several of the pages seemed to have been turned to quite frequently, but that revealed little. When both analyses came back negative, Kristi wasn't sure what to make of it. 

She guessed her father had come up with some type of code on his own, but what was it? It was possible that each group stood for a word, the variations seemed too numerous to stand for individual letters. But about half of the groups had a series as the third number. Were they meant to represent phrases? _But what would the first two numbers indicate…the letters the word started with? No, the computer would have caught that. Placement of some sort? Or…location!_

Suddenly Kristi saw it. She began to rapidly flip through the pages of the Qu'ran, looking up and jotting down words and phrases. It was incredibly simple. The first number was for the Sura or chapter, the second for the particular verse, and the third for the words of the verse. The use of the obscure translation simply made it that much more difficult to decipher. But if Kristi expected to clear up mysteries by cracking the code, she was very wrong. The deciphered and translated message read:

__

Ali,

I forgive you and ask your forgiveness. I was wrong to ever doubt your loyalty, despite the appearances. You would never forget the cause. Your situation increases your value. Report to me when you can, with what information you can give us without risking your cover. 

Your Brother Abdul-Jabaar Hakeem

Kristi wasn't sure what to make of the letter. Was her father the sender or the recipient? Neither of the names were right, but if her father had received the letter, surely he wouldn't have kept it. So perhaps it wrote it, and never had the chance to deliver it. That would make sense. Derrick had used the alias Abdul-Jabaar once or twice, and the context fit. Her father could have been concerned that one of his contacts turned, and then found that he had a valuable mole. The only thing that truly puzzled Kristi was the closing 'Your Brother.' It might have simply been a term of solidarity, her father considered this Ali to be a brother in the cause. 

Kristi carefully slipped the sheet of paper back into the book and glanced at the clock. It was around 9:30, almost time to go.

* * *

Kristi walked down the stairs, cursing her heels and carefully watching the other students. They used the emergency stairs frequently, since the presence of so many students made the two elevators impossibly slow. She shifted mindsets, her thoughts now covert actions, not merely observations. The students in front of her opened a door and stepped into the lobby. Kristi paused, listening for footsteps, and carefully slipped down the next flight of stairs. It led to a basement entrance that was sealed off. Brent waited for her at the bottom. 

"Speak softly," he whispered, "this place has awful echoes." 

"Right, although if anyone did catch us, we could always pretend to be making out," Kristi joked. 

"Somehow it's nice to have a mission where getting caught means a fine for breaking the PDA policy, not torture and death." Brent said with an ironic grin. "Makes me feel almost normal." 

"Almost," Kristi emphasized, as she sat down on the steps. "I never intend to be normal." She got back to business. "Did you make contact with Brandon?" 

"My roommate is his new best friend." Brent paused, a little uncertain, as he sat down beside her. 

"He told you?" She instantly knew what made him uncomfortable, and he knew what she was referring to. 

"Yeah, are you going to be okay with it?" 

"You know me and Brandon, we fight like any other brother and sister, but we're professionals. We'll both suck it up and get the job done." It didn't really answer the question, but Brent understood. She wasn't really okay with it, but she wasn't going to let it interfere with her job. 

"You really think there's an explanation, don't you?" 

"In my gut, I really do. But Brandon's got a point, which only makes it that much harder." 

"You know your 'gut' has saved all of our lives a few times, Kristi. Don't write off your instincts." 

"But Syd isn't a suicide bomber, and this isn't Iran. Maybe my instincts are all wrong here. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this." 

"Do you really believe that?" Brent asked. 

"I don't know anymore." Kristi gazed down at the floor, as if the concrete had all her answers. 

"Hey," Brent put his arm on her shoulder, and she turned to face him. "We're going to get through this. I don't know how, but we're going to find the answers. We did a pretty good job six years ago, didn't we?" he added with a grin. 

"Except that it could have gotten us killed!" Kristi grinned herself, as she thought of the risks they hadn't even known about. 

"Well, that's our lives. Except this mission, which we'd better get planned before curfew." 

"Yeah, I'd hate to face the consequences of a $5 fine," Kristi quipped, feeling better, or at least able to push her problems to the back of her mind yet again. "So this convention has a lot going on. I think we need to focus on intelligence-related activities, but also look at some of the other options. This policy-making simulation, for example, would be a great chance to gauge some leadership skills." 

"Right, but we'd need to find a way to monitor some of the other groups," Brent agreed. "There are 20, and each is conducting the simulation, but we can only observe 3." 

"You're suggesting wiretaps? That's a lot more involved than observation. We'd have to sneak out, wire all the Group meeting rooms without getting caught, and we don't even have op-tech for that." 

"Well Sloane could get it to us, if he thought it was worth the risk," Brent suggested. "The simulation starts Friday night, so we have two more days to figure it out. Just report it as an option." 

"Alright, how do we want to split up the site visits and seminars?" Kristi moved on to the next topic. They reviewed the descriptions and made a set of assignments, trying to figure out which sessions their target students would be attending. 

"OK, so Brandon's going to the DIA, I'm visiting the NSA's Cryptology Museum, and you're going with the Langley tour." 

"Do you think that's risky, I mean will anyone recognize me and blow my cover?" Kristi asked. 

"I doubt Langley security is kept up to speed on the identities of black ops agents. At any rate, we'll put it in the report to Sloane, and let him decide." 

"Sounds good. I found this in my Father's Qu'ran." She held out the decrypted message, and explained the code and what she thought the message meant. 

"Makes sense to me. Did your father use the name Abdul-Jabaar with a contact named Ali?" 

"He might have. I didn't bring the file; it seemed too risky to bring a file full of classified documents." 

"I guess we can check it out when we get home, then." 

* * *

A/N: NYLF refers to National Youth Leadership Forum, the name of the convention. And for future reference, it is a real organization, and all activities are correct as far as my memory serves. With the exception of the Langley visit, I wish!! What else…Annapolis refers to the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. DIA is Defense Intelligence Agency, and NSA is National Security Administration. Lewis structures are a way to draw organic molecules. And the nifty little code in the Qu'ran, that's not my idea, unfortunately. I borrowed it from an author of a series of historical fiction books, Jack Cavannah. But he used it for the Bible, so it is somewhat different. 


	20. Chapter 19: We All Fall

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Search For A Star

Chapter 19: We All Fall

  


_We all fall sometimes, We all let ourselves down,_

He'd broken all the rules. The ones he'd driven himself to memorize. Pages M-34-M47 of the CIA manual. And as he flipped through the pages in his mind, he didn't find the rule he was looking for. No handler shall shoot his/her agent. It wasn't there, nor in the hard copy he kept with him in a desperate attempt to be professional. Vaughn honestly didn't expect to find it. It was assumed, unwritten, obvious to everyone. It was ingrained in the oath he'd sworn, implied in the pledge he'd given. And he'd broken it. Shot her, right through the leg; aimed carefully in an attempt to miss the bone, and pulled the trigger. 

_Sometimes there's nothing left but to live with what's been done._

And know you're not the only one who falls

He'd seen her flinch, saw the brave grin she gave him, saw right through it all. There was no disguising the pain; nothing she did could fool him into believing that it didn't hurt. Nothing he could do as she'd waited the long seconds, blood draining from her right calf. She'd smeared a little of the blood, torn off the lower leg of her camo pants, and finally stopped the bleeding. He'd wanted to do something--find her some painkillers, make a tourniquet--but there was nothing he could do. Nothing to do but pick up one of the suitcases and walk off, leaving Sydney to call sd-6 for help. 

_We all fail sometimes, We all let someone down,_

He threw down the rulebook in disgust. It wasn't those rules he really cared about, despite how hard he tried. The rules he cared about were from his father's diary, from his own sense of right and wrong, and this was terribly wrong. He'd promised himself a thousand times that he would never let anyone hurt Sydney, and he'd failed. He'd hurt her himself, betrayed the promise, betrayed her. What kind of handler shot his own agent? What kind of friend failed to find another solution?

_Sometimes there's nothing left but to promise to ourselves, _

That next time we won't be the one to fail

He relived the incident time and time again, looking for a place where he could have done something differently, something that avoided the outcome, that found another way. He couldn't find one, but he promised himself he would. He would find a solution to that situation, and to all the others he could see himself and Sydney in. He'd find a way to make sure it never happened again. But even if he did, even if he had an answer to everything, it wouldn't erase the scar in Sydney's calf.

His ringing cell phone brought him back to reality, reminding him he was in the Langley offices. 

_I want to tell you, you can go on, That beginnings come from ends._

"Hi, it's me. We're in a hospital in Astana. I told Dixon I was going to call Francie, but I just wanted you to know I'm okay." 

_I still believe in you and so does God._

"Are you? Really?" he questioned. "What'd the doctor say?"

"Well, it fractured my tibia, but he said I was lucky it didn't shatter, and my gastronemius is pretty mangled, but I'll be off the crutches in a week or two."

"Syd I'm sor-" 

"Don't be," she cut him off. "There was nothing else to do. I'm going to be fine, and Dixon and Marshall don't suspect a thing. But I'd better go, just in case."

"Be careful." He ended the conversation as he usually did, but this time the words rang hollow. She'd been careful, done everything right, and it had meant nothing. 

_He's the one who still believes in those who fail _

He felt like telling her to be careful of him, to avoid his mistakes, his failures. But despite it all, she didn't. 

_He's the one who still believes in us who fall. _

She still had faith. And maybe she was right.

* * * 


	21. Chapter 20: Finding Spies

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Search For A Star

Chapter 20: Finding Spies

  


Brandon glanced over at his roommate. The guy seemed engrossed in whatever sitcom was showing on the television, so Brandon shifted his laptop to hide the screen and started hacking away at the National Youth Leadership Forum database. He'd meant to tell Kristi about the additions to the mission Jack had given him, but the fight had changed his mind. Now he determined to push it to the back of his mind. There was nothing he could do about Sydney Bristow now, and he had a mission to complete. Within minutes, he cracked the firewall and generated the needed passwords. He found the info he was looking for, copied it to a disk, and started looking through it. 

* * *

"The NYLF," Jack explained, "like many conferences of its kind, sent its participants a career interest survey. Unlike many such surveys, this one has extraneous questions, added to keep the assessment unpredictable. We replaced them with questions that will identify teenagers with espionage-career potential.

"So we get the results and narrow our search pool," Brandon summarized.

"You shouldn't have much difficulty hacking into their server. These are the passwords we engineered when we planted the questions. I doubt they've changed."

Brandon looked over the list, memorizing the short list of words. "Nothing I can't handle, sir."

* * *

_These should make everything much simpler,_ Brandon thought as he typed a simple e-mail with the results and explanation. He ran it through an encryption program and sent it out to a pair of innocuous-seeming hotmail addresses that Kristi and Brent would check regularly throughout the mission.

* * *

Curfew was from 11pm to 6am. Kristi's alarm went off promptly at 5:45. She quickly reached under her pillow and shut it off. She sat up slowly and looked over at her sleeping roommate. The girl had come in right at curfew and introduced herself as Annika Honsler. Kristi rolled her eyes at the thought of their conversation. _Annika is definitely not spy material._ Within seconds of introducing herself, she'd asked Kristi if she needed to use the phone. After Kristi waved her cell phone as a means of reply, she proceeded to call boys she'd met. 

It took a lot to shock Kristi, but five minutes of Annika's conversation with a boy named Tom had floored her. Most married couples in the Middle East would be embarrassed to talk like that in the privacy of their own bedrooms, but Annika seemed to think nothing of her sexually explicit flirtation with a boy she'd barely met. For the first time in her life, Kristi began to see some of the motivations for the terrorists she fought. _I can understand why they don't want that kind of behavior in their countries, but...can't you have morality without oppression? Do you have to fight the pervasiveness of American culture with bombs and guns? Do you have to send your sons out to kill themselves in order to keep your daughters from dressing like Britney Spears?_ Kristi thought not. 

She glanced down at her watch. _If you keep pondering the social and cultural issues of Islam, Zahlan, you're going to be here all day._ She moved quietly though the dark, pulled on some running clothes and slipped out to meet Brent. They had been running in the mornings since they'd started work for sd-6. They would wake early and drive to the tourist section of Istanbul, where Kristi's running shorts and t-shirt would not be so out of place. Since the tourists woke late, they had usually had the beaches to themselves. 

Brent was waiting under the fourth lamppost from the corner, and Kristi crossed the street to join him.

"Do you think this is too risky?" she asked.

"No one's going to notice us in this city. We'll jog around in a loop. End up back here and slip back into the hotel separately."

"And if anyone sees us?" Kristi was still uncertain.

"We tell them we both like running and we met last night, or that we were at the same summer camp last year. These people have no reason to be suspicious. They'll believe whatever we say."

"You're right. I just have a hard time convincing myself this cover is as easy as it seems."

* * *

The morning event was a trip to Capitol Hill. After wandering through the Library of Congress and the Supreme Court building with a few of the kids from Brandon's list, Kristi returned to her room to find a note from their contact under her pillow. She'd encoded the CD the night before, and sd-6 had obviously responded quickly. Under the bed she found a sack that held a sweatshirt in her size hiding several dozen small bugs, and their digital receiving device. She dialed Brent's and Brandon's pagers and punched the numbers 28, the signal for an immediate meeting in the stairwell. She picked up the sack and headed for the stairs, glancing at her watch. They'd probably be a little late for a speaker's presentation, but it wouldn't be a big deal. 

Brandon was already there, and Brent arrived within a few seconds. "Sloane contacted you?" he asked. Kristi quickly showed them the bugs and the instructions on the note.

"They're smaller and simpler than I expected." Brent commented.

"That's because they're so low-tech," Brandon explained. "You don't need to heavily encrypt the signal, because there's no one trying to intercept it. You don't need to make it resistant to bug-killers because no one here has them."

"When do we want to install them?" Kristi asked. "I could mix up some type of knockout agent. If we made it subtle enough the monitors would simply think they fell asleep for a few minutes."

"Do we have to do it at night?" Brent countered. "How about tomorrow at dinner. Everyone will be in the dining room, and if anyone does see us, it'll be easy to make up an excuse."

Brandon and Kristi quickly agreed, and the three exchanged reports about a few targets. Brandon's targets were all female, promting Kristi to remark.

"Remember, you're looking for potential spies, not a potential girlfriend!"

* * *


	22. Chapter 21: Answers

****

Search For A Star

Chapter 21: Answers 

  


You've got me reeling as I'm hearing all the words you say   
This ain't the way it's meant to be.   
You've got a feeling there is more to living life this way   
I want to show you reality   
That you've never seen   
-TRUEvibe, 'More' 

"You are a very fortunate group." The counselor addressed the group of students that sat on the bus headed for Langley. "The CIA doesn't give public tours of headquarters, and private tours like ours are rare. Leave your cell phones, pagers, and CD players on the bus, have your photo ID ready, and follow whatever instructions the security officers give you."

So I'm finally going to see Langley, Kristi thought as she looked up from a few notes she was jotting down about one of the targets. He'd been looking for ways to smuggle in his camera. Fortunately, his friends had talked him out of the idea, but some of his hiding places showed ingenuity. David was his name, and he was definitely one to keep an eye on.

"What are you writing?" Kristi looked up to see her seatmate's eyes focused on the flowering script in her notebook.

"Becky, isn't it?" Another one of the students she was watching closely. "I'm Kristi, and this is my Journal. I don't want to forget anything this week."

"Me neither, especially this Langley visit. But what language is that?"

"French, so my little bother won't read it," Kristi replied with a grin. And the alphabet is French, Kristi smiled to herself, but the words are transliterated from Arabic. _If any of these kids can figure that out, I'm not going to worry, because Sloane would probably hire them on the spot._ Kristi found her thoughts drifting from the students she was watching to the visit. It was probably unusual to be a CIA operations officer for 6 years and never have been inside Headquarters, but nothing in her career had been typical. Still, she was pretty excited to see the place where her orders came from, and her intel eventually ended up. This part of the mission would be very memorable.

* * * 

"Andrews, look at this. I don't believe it."

"What is it, Jensen?" Andrews said as he walked over to where his partner sat in front of her computer screen. These high school students were a major hassle, but he sincerely doubted they were a threat to the agency. They'd checked the students before they even arrived, and nothing unusual showed had up.

"It's Kristina Chapman."

"What about her?" their superior, Agent Samantha Blakney asked as she stepped towards the two security officers.

"She's not really Kristina Chapman. Her real name is Kristina Zahlan, and she's an operative for sd-6," Jensen read.

"Sd-6? We should cancel the entire visit." Andrews turned a little pale.

"No, the intel source is highly classified," Blakney countered. "If we make sd-6 suspicious, we could jeopardize an entire operation. Pick a few random students to search more thoroughally. Make sure Zahlan is one of them." Andrews and Jensen quickly relayed the instructions as Blakney reached for the phone to identify someone more able to assess the situation. 

* * *

Vaughn jotted another note in his Ops Fam. Refresher notebook before glancing at his watch, again. The two-day review of his 6-week Operations Familarization course was halfway over, and Vaughn was anxious to get back home and see how Syd was doing for himself. The buzz of his phone startled him, and he quickly reached down to see the caller ID on the vibrating device. The number was unfamiliar, but it surprised him as it came from within Langely itself. He slipped out into the hall and answered it.

"Vaughn."

"Agent Vaughn, this is Agent Blackney, Langely security. We have a delicate situation here."

* * *

"What could possibly take so much time?" Kristi simply shrugged in response to Becky's question. The delay had her slightly concerned, but there was little she could do about it. When they finally were waved on into the building, Kristi breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps there was nothing out of the ordinary after all. But the number of guards accompanying their group seemed excessive. As they walked in the CIA museum of spy artifacts, Kristi thought she almost caught two of them staring at her. _Stop being so paranoid, Zahlan. You're on the same side._

Kristi found herself relaxing as they browsed through the museum and were led outside to the gardens. _My father walked through here. He even ate his lunch on these benches at times._ Kristi smiled as she remembered begging him to take her with him so they could have a picnic. _I forgot all about that._ The tour returned inside to the New Building lobby. Their guide was explaining something, and Kristi hurried to catch up. 

"In this building we have several memorials. On the North wall is the memorial to the officers of the Office of Strategic Services. And opposite of it here, is our memorial to the CIA officers killed in the line of duty. There is a star for each of the 78 officers who gave their lives, and the names that can be revealed are inscribed in this book."

Kristi had to stifle a gasp. Why had no one ever told her about this? She waited impatiently for the other students to look at the memorial. _I wonder if they wrote in my Father's name, or maybe an alias I'd recognize? _Finally the other students were busy looking at the other parts of the room. She walked up to the wall, looking at the blue stars set in the marble. One of them was for her father, and another for Brent's mother. She had to stop herself from reaching out to touch the wall. Stepping over to the glass-covered book, she looked over the list of names, and blank spaces where names were withheld. A quick scan didn't reveal her father's, but she read through them all anyways. At the fifth from the last, she froze. _It can't be. But the words were there, unmistakable black ink that read Ali Hakeem. Ali, who had received a letter from his brother Abdul-Jabar Hakeem; Ali, the double agent, was her father. It can't be, it's impossible. Unless…_

"No!" Kristi put a hand up to her mouth, trying to take the word back. She had to stay in control, compartmentalize. She took a shaky breath to steady herself. But it couldn't stop the tears that spilled out of the corner of her eye. Nor could it stop the questions from racing through her head. Who was her father, and who was he working for?

"Miss, I think you need to come with us." Kristi turned to find the two guards she'd thought were watching her earlier. The other students had passed on.

"I…I…" she could think of nothing to save her cover, and suddenly she didn't care. She could only think of the answers staring her in the face. The answers to the questions that had been troubling her for weeks. _It can't be…it can't be…it just can't. _

The agents showed her into a conference room and shut the door. Kristi realized numbly that she had no idea what way she'd come, or how far she'd walked. The dark-haired female agent shut the door behind them, while the male agent walked over to open the window blinds. He turned his back to her, and recognition flashed in a instant.

"No," she gasped.

"What?" he spoke for the first time.

"You're the man on the tape, at the airport, with the camera. But you can't be, because if you are, then you're working with Sydney…and that means that sd-6 is…No!" The tears were flooding her face now, and Kristi buried her face in her hands. She sank into the nearest chair. It couldn't be, but it was. The answers were staring her right in the face. 

* * *


End file.
